Radioactive
by Sweet Misa
Summary: Historian and self proclaimed weapons expert, Marla McGivers finds herself a pawn of two highly dangerous men, Admiral Marcus and the mysterious augment John Harrison. As fascination begins to rule her head Marla is consumed with her overwhelming desire to no longer be a pawn to the two men, but instead a player in a very deadly game. Marla/Khan
1. The Call

**Disclaimer:** I don't own or claim to own Star Trek or any of the characters contained in this story.

Chapter One: The Call

Marla flexed her fingers over her hairline. She rubbed her ashy brittle red frizzed curls. Several strands fell into the sink. It was happening.

She could remember a time long ago when she could comb layers upon layers of red curls before getting the mess decent. Now she could barely touch her hair without it crumbling from her grip. She faced herself in the mirror. She still had her eyes. Ordinary as they were they were large, brown, and round. Her father often commented that she looked like an animated character ready to chase away furry creatures into space. Her brother would make her feel comfortable in her skin asking why she had been given such a small nose while he had been blessed by his father's oversized beak.

Marla could smile about it now. It didn't make the hairs in the sink disappear. She swallowed turning the water on to wash away the evidence. She ran her finger under her nostrils to sate some snot before looking at her face again. Her hairline was receding. It wasn't too noticeable. Her skin was fading as well. There wasn't a healthy glow to it only a pale mess of colorless cells and purple veins. She touched her dry rounded bottom lip hoping to steady the quivering. Peeled skin only joined her fallen hairs in the sink.

The woman didn't want to think it, but the words played into her mind.

She was looking at a dying woman.

The very same infliction that had overtaken her mother was infesting her system. She dyed withered, but not alone. She had held her mother's hand as she laid dying. The doctors called her a fool. Her mother had been exposed to great amounts of radiation in her last mission.

Marla had already been overexposed to her mother. However the woman didn't need to miss a chance to hold her mother. The image she faced in the mirror was one she had earned with pride. The red head smiled at herself for a moment before omitting a deeply powerful cough. She spit into the sink watching blood swirl down the sink. She could hear the beeping echo from her bedroom. Her guest picked it up.

"I'll relay the message, Sir."

She spit again closing her eyes at the idea of work, but she needed to continue. Her mission was not complete. She had to remain in Starfleet as long as there was breath still in her. She turned to retrieve her silk pink robe sprawled across the floor. She draped it over her naked body before going back into her bedroom.

She looked at the cadet in her bed. He was young, a recent graduate who was still wet behind the ears. He had shaggy hair that had yet to be cut, black and thick around his eyes. He crushed the sheets of her bed against his body hoping to hide his imperfections despite the intimacy they had recently shared. His eyes darted to her briefly before he looked to her communicator settled between his legs on the bed.

"It was Admiral Marcus, Miss." His shaky voice suddenly annoyed Marla. "He'd like for you to call him back." She smiled slightly. The admiral? She was glad to hear it. She had struggled to get his attention.

She crawled onto the bed uncaring that her robe may or may not have opened. The young man shifted as she reached between his legs for the communicator. She wondered what had finally brought a historian like her to the attention of Admiral Alexander Marcus. Her recent exploration to uncharted territory? Her travels to Australia and her new discoveries? Her book? It had to be her book. The title was too fitting for Marcus not to notice. _The History of Our Violence_: _The Traumatic Expressions of War_. It must have been that.

"Admiral Marcus please." Her voice chimed with much joy. "Dr. Marla McGivers." The assistant on the other side patched her in. She was sure Marcus had many people to go through in order to get to him.

"Lieutenant McGivers." The military admiral chimed. "I was hoping you would return my call sooner rather than later."

"I was happy to hear from you, Admiral." She smiled taking herself off of the bed. She looked at the young man again, strong shoulders, dense arms, yet a sheepish expression. She pointed to his clothes on the floor looking almost sternly at him as she did it. The young man hurried to retrieve his things. "What is it I can do for you?"

"The Kelvin Memorial Archives, Lieutenant." Marcus spat out. "I'd like to meet you there."

"The archives, Admiral? In London?" She was surprised. She had not worked at the archives since after she received her doctorate. That had been even before she had joined Starfleet. She also wasn't sure what the admiral was doing in her neck of the woods.

"That's the one." He sounded suddenly overwhelmed and frustrated. Marla was half glad she could make him feel that way. She nodded to the young man as he pulled his Starfleet uniform shirt over his head.

"May I ask why, Sir?" Her British accent shined through in that moment.

"I'm afraid I can't inform you of anything until you have entered the archives, Lieutenant." It all sounded so secretive, but she wasn't sure why a historian was needed in something as important as what Admiral Marcus was suggesting. "I will see you at O eight hundred hours." Marla realized that was soon, but the line was dead before she could say anything else.

The communicator snapped closed as she looked to the carpet. She watched her toes wriggled with excitement against the plush carpet. She had been hoping for an assignment since she had been relieved from the USS Bradbury. Her illness had finally caught up to her duties in the field. However the lieutenant was a firm believer in conspiracies. Her father had raised her on helpings of government lore about corruption between leaders. It always fascinated her. Now she may be living in one.

"Did you want me to go?" He had finally finished dressing.

"Hmmm?" She looked at the young man. He was straight laced with his back held firm. She could watch his body quiver when her eyes went to him. She raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Oh, yes. I think it would be best." She patted his ensign on his chest. "I enjoyed your company, Mr. Hadler." He raised his eyebrows surprised she had remembered his name. She looked at the communicator in her hands twisting it wondering what she could possibly plaster her body with to make herself more presentable. She then noticed the man was still there. "Please go now."

He hurried out without wasting a moment. Marla McGivers crossed her room letting her closet door slide open. She gazed at both uniforms, one gray with slacks and the other, a red short dress. Deciding wasn't difficult. Just as reminding herself how badly she wanted Admiral Marcus' blood on her hands wasn't hard as well.


	2. A Dangerous Man

Chapter Two: A Dangerous Man

"Lieutenant McGivers." Marla told the woman at the front desk of the archives. The blonde with the short bob and bored gray eyes wasn't familiar to the young woman. She looked around Marla's age, early thirties or late twenties. The woman looked down at her computer screen. Marla went on her toes. "Marla McGivers. Dr. Marla McGivers. Admiral Marcus asked for me. By name." She seemed smug in her response which didn't seem to impress the young lady, but simply allowed her to roll her eyes.

"Section 31 clearance, Doctor." The blonde smiled with as much pose as she could before handing the woman a scan card.

Marla just nodded her head before heading for the elevator. The archives seemed supremely empty that morning. Nobody rushed in and out like Marla had once seen. She had spent nearly every waking moment here as a child when her father worked late nights rearranging data for Starfleet. He'd place her by his side as she read books on tyrants with only one name hoping someday to witness something interesting at the archives.

Today she was becoming a part of something amazing, but a terrible thought in her mind rang. Maybe this wasn't for something amazing. Maybe the admiral was doing something routine. However Admiral Alexander Marcus was someone of high authority who would not waste his time on a historian unless it was for a higher purpose. She entered the elevator alone scanning her card below the touch screen buttons. The purple lights took in the card's signature.

Instead of going up as expected the elevator took a steady downward plunge. Marla lost her balance tumbling to the floor. Her knees hit hard as she grabbed her stomach. A heave of nausea sent her skin crawling. She was glad she had decided to wear the gray uniform complete with slacks. The dress would have scrapped up her already redden worn knees from vomiting so much from her sickness.

She managed to get herself to her feet before the elevator doors slid open. Below the Kelvin Memorial Archives Starfleet bustled. People moved from rooms into the open space Marla exited with force and panic. They shouted out calls as they sped across. She could see a mixture of men and women in an excited state. Many were holding communicators asking hurried questions while others fiddled with instruments on long tables. Marla was in their lair yet nobody noticed the woman with her thinly pulled back red curls and pressed uniform.

"Lieutenant McGivers?" A man with a PAD at his side and a horribly sloppy tone asked. Marla looked to him. He was an oval faced Indian man who seemed to be a bit older then her. He was in a uniform that matched hers. "Or do you prefer Dr. McGivers?"

"Either is fine." She instructed smiling like a fool. Her teeth showed and she wondered suddenly if her breath smelled because the man's head ducked down to his clipboard.

"This way . . ." She could see him think for a moment. "Lieutenant."

Marla decided not to ask questions as they passed long hallways. Her guide gave his clearance through a number of doors. Some guards greeted him as Lieutenant as well. The doctor was glad that they were equally ranked. She was quite tired of dealing with amateurs. She was ready to run with the big boys. At their last door the man stopped looking to her for a moment.

"This is where I leave you, Lieutenant McGivers." She looked confused for a moment before realizing something.

"You don't have clearance."

"Afraid I don't have the privilege." He smiled through closed teeth rocking on his heels. "I'm only to deliver you." Package boy. She hadn't moved up just get.

"Well thank you, Lieutenant." She glanced at his name plate against his chest. "Verma." She walked into the room letting the man disappeared behind her.

Marla suddenly felt the snap of a beaming light turn on. The room became illuminated in white as she noticed where she was. In front of her she could see a wall half made of glass. On the other side of the glass someone sat. A man with a V-neck black shirt sat postured like a true English gentleman. His wrists were cuffed to the table wrapped in restraints binding him to the thick gray table top in front of him.

"Recognize him, Dr. McGivers?" The Admiral made his appearance from a dark corner out the glass where Marla stood.

"Should I, Sir?"

"I would hope so." He smiled standing beside her staring at the man as well. "You devoted an entire section in your book to men like him." She stepped closer to the glass tipping her head with curiosity.

His posture could have been from a strong upbringing, but that posture was military. His body was in peak physical condition. His chest was rising steadily and calmly despite being shackled. She could his feet were held to the table legs. His muscles under his shirt, slacks, and on his arms were reminiscent of Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. He was board in his shoulders like a true warrior. His face was relaxed and tense all at once. Marla could see how simple the beauty there was, yet how complicated he could make his expressions. His makers had selected the best DNA to make men like him. Pictures of these men were rare, but there were some paintings of the Eugeneic Wars.

"Where did you find him?" She stared at the man seated in the interrogation room as his eyes bore into his shackles.

"S.S. Botany Bay, sleeper ship, lost in space." Marla could see Marcus had chosen his words carefully. She was hooked. A living breathing relic was the greatest gift to any historian especially from a time when all history went up in flames.

"You woke him up." She commented finally turning her attention to Marcus.

"We'd like to see what he knows. That period in time is lost Dr. McGivers. You know that better than anyone." Marcus made a good point. Marla McGivers knew everything there was to know about the Eugeneic Wars. Every detail she had stashed in her brain.

"And I am sure you are aware that those men and women nearly destroyed this Earth, Admiral." She was fascinated, yes, but also concerned. That man was dangerous. She wasn't even sure why he still allowed himself to be shackled. Then suddenly it hit her. "And where is the rest of his crew?" Dangerous as a superior being, superior people were fiercely loyal. Marla was quite aware of the habits the creations of genes in body form could inflict when formed into a group. Marcus hadn't explicably stated the man had a crew with him, but Marla could tell.

"We are keeping them safe." Marcus told the young woman. "For everyone's benefit." She doubted this man saw it that way.

"He's not going to like that." Marla whispered looking harder at the man. His patience was exhausting to watch. He had such control and poise to himself.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant?" She turned to her superior to address his concern.

"He will not like you holding his crew. The Augments, were, or are in this case, fiercely loyal. One goes missing and the rest of the crew suffers. No doubt he has asked about his crew was when he awoken." She almost felt sympathy for the man. Despite the fact that the man was highly dangerous he was still human in some shape or form. Starfleet was not one to keep prisoners, but then again Marla never knew the true Starfleet.

"The first words to leave his mouth." Marcus seemed genuinely surprised by the young woman. "We said they were safe. He was transported here yesterday. He's a stubborn young man. Can't get more then yeses and nos out of him."

"Have you threatened his crew yet?" Despite her passive activities over the years Marla knew of war. She knew what men like both Marcus and the Augment responded to.

"Seemed like the best way to get him to talk. That's where we are at." He concluded. "I was hoping you could pick his brain. Ask the right questions." She looked to Marcus then at the Eugeneics soldier. He flexed his knuckles before raising his eyes forward for a minute. She could see blue in those eyes.

"For what?" She wondered watching the captive look down at his knuckles once more. She suddenly was intrigued of living the history of the Eugeneic Wars all over. "If I am to interrogate this man I should know what I am aiming to discover." Marcus hesitated before asking. The older man shifted slightly before spilling the beans.

"Weapons, Lieutenant. We are interested in weaponry for war." She was sure she could ask for more, but Marla was glad for what she had gotten out of him now.

"What makes you so certain he will comply with me, Admiral?" There was the question that had been on the tip of her tongue all morning. Why her? Why a doctor in history in a clearly classified location? Why would a deeply superior being speak to someone who looked like death?

"You are off duty, McGivers. It would be off the records which is something I need." He clarified her suspicions of the interrogation. "You are also the closest and best person in your field of study. You;ll know which questions to ask. You are the best hope we have about learning about John Harrison."

"An alias?" She raised an eyebrow softly.

"For now," He looked to him almost thinking to himself with a smile. "John Harrison. Special Agent John Harrison."

"They had exotic names." She piped in. Marla mused about listing the known tyrants of the sections, but let the thought run out of her head. She needed to be present in that moment.

"Will you interrogate the prisoner or not Lieutenant McGivers?" Marla watched Harrison shift a bit before tilting his pointed chin downwards. His eyes closed. She thought if she looked hard enough she could see his dreams of blood, war, and his men calling out to him in the heat of battle.

"If you can promise my safety Admiral, I can promise you results."


	3. Making History

**Author's Note: **First I want to thank those who have reviewed. Secondly I'd like to point out that I have updated chapter 2 since I first posted it to rework some ideas.

Chapter Three: Making History

"Don't live history. Make history."

Her father's words rattled in her head before the doors to Special Agent John Harrison's prison slide open. Yes, she was about to make history by speaking to history. When Marla entered the room he didn't look up right away. When the doors slid firmly behind her, his eyes took notice. He saw her there, a young woman in a Starfleet issued uniform. She thought he'd smile or laugh at her. He had a right to. Alone in a cell all day and they send a woman to ask him more questions he didn't want to answer.

She watched his expression. It didn't change, but his eyes remained steadily on her, a fierce warrior stare, a warning. She could feel her heart quicken with fear. He looked as though he could tear her apart. Marla had only remembered of being terrified one other time in her life. Her heartbeat had felt the same in the moments when she let her mother's life slip from her hand.

She watched his body shift. She tried not to show signs of fear, but she flinched. The red head then noticed he had only folded his hands into one another as she checked around the table for things he could use. She knew intelligent beings could use the simplest of things to cause harm. His eyes followed her like a hunter, but she was far from his prey.

"Special Agent Harrison." Her voice didn't quiver. She was proud of that. "My name is Lieutenant Marla McGivers." Lieutenant instead of doctor. A man of military stature would respect that. "I'm here to ask you some questions." He simply stared.

She decided to take a seat in the metal chair identical to his on the other side of the long table. Studying his people had made her supremely aware of how his kind may act. They were cold. They watched people. They were intelligent. They were strong and they were hungry for all things that could get them power. She sat shifting uncomfortably. She looked up at the small dots that she identified as cameras. The types of questions Marcus wanted her to ask were rattling around in her head.

"Did you participate in the Eugeneic Wars?" She asked. The man nodded. She could see this was going to be difficult.

"And in these wars what kind of weaponry was used?" Marla inquired knowing that she could answer the question herself. When he didn't answer, she told him. "From what I have gathered you must have only used what you could fit on your bodies for travel. So naturally you used your immense strength and superior intelligence when needed. Hand to hand combat came naturally. And there were weapons invented in this time. Weapons torn to pieces when they were used against you." She saw his head rise to stare blankly at her. His brow furrowed as if she had brought back a bad memory.

"There are still remains of the small yet powerful blasters. Centuries have gone by and still not a single person has figured them out. I myself have looked at the broken pieces. It's a fascinating little device. Barely fits into my palm." She showed Harrison her small hand with no expression. Marla caught him trying to omit his gaze. She watched his lips move slowly as if he meant to say something.

"However my favorite weapons of the time had to be the plasma canons." Marla could see his interest slowly peeking. "Not bulky like we had begun to develop. The ones your people created were light. Much lighter. Easy to maneuver in combat. However they were cumbersome." She could continue listing off the weapons this man more than likely used, but she watched his eyes falter for a moment to look to his hands. For a moment she thought he meant to try to break free then she realized the move.

"Please do not try to frighten me, Agent Harrison." She sounded too confident. "I am not fond of threats." He smiled slightly at the statement.

"But you are frightened." His voice was a deep baritone that caused her body to become even more tense. "Aren't you, Lieutenant?" She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I am not."

"Yes you are." His eyes slowly met hers. She could see his face change. He seemed much calmer looking at Marla McGivers. "Because you know who I am. What I can do. What my crew will do once they are released. You know these chains aren't holding me here. You know that no chains can hold me." He jingled them. Marla flinched. She swallowed down her fear and some bile before resuming.

"In the wars, how did you attack your enemy?" She asked remembering how the admiral wanted to know why those wars were so violent. Marla could tell him.

"You've done a fine job recalling my past for me, Lieutenant." His voice seemed calm and steady in that moment. Marla looked to Harrison seeing how his face had suddenly become less frightening. "Why stop now?" She gave into his advice.

"Brute force. Without restraints." Her voice staggered slightly. Hearing him speak had caused her to lose her train of thought.

"Go on." He encouraged. She thought of clearing her throat, but she could taste the blood searing the back of it.

"You had nothing to gain and everything to lose." She was locked to his eyes. He didn't seem to blink his eyes or change his stiffened expression. "From what . . . I understand you even hid weapons under your skin in case you were caught."

She had remembered exploring a site where remains of Augments had been found. Sharp blades were found fairly close to the bones. There were even paintings of Augments with shiny silver objects against their shoulders. Most of her colleagues thought they were piercings of honor. Marla knew these men held no honor.

"Very good, Lieutenant." Marla could have sworn he was actually impressed. "I was unaware how much we had left for you to discover." She knew why. She managed to gain back her confidence in knowing that.

"History tells me we are doomed to repeat our mistakes." Marla folded her hands into themselves. "You see Commander Harrison," She watched him flinch as she stated his rank and took a mental note of it. "I am a historian. I study the facts of the past. The facts of the Eugenetics Wars are very scarce." She saw he had allowed his eyes to glaze over. Perhaps in boredom. "You and your people made the best attempt you could to destroy that evidence. The evidence of your lost war." There. Now she had his attention.

"You tore into this world hoping to get something from the rubble. All they had to give you was blood. You can't rule on blood." His posture shifted as if he suddenly became comfortable in the stranger's words.

"This world," Harrison said leaning forward. Marla leaned toward him as well. His teeth crushed together as he spoke with force. "Needed us. To cleanse them of their weaknesses. The men who ruled were not worthy of their power. They needed a superior leader. They needed our superiority." He slowly leaned back staring at the woman harshly. Marla understood him. He needed to be needed in that moment as well. For the sake of his people.

"They needed your savagery." The red head concluded leaning in her chair as well. "Just as we need your savagery now."

She glanced at the cameras. She hadn't done much in the way of getting information from Harrison, but she knew she may have impressed the admiral. She then looked to Harrison. His expression suddenly held nothing. No surprise or wonder or anger. He seemed overcome with emptiness.

"You," She said softly letting her breath blister in the cold air. She spoke from her heart smiling at him with amazement at him. She hated herself for feeling so open in that moment. "Are a remnant from a time long passed."

She admired him in that moment not caring that his eyes were watching her, not caring that this was in fact not proper of her. When was she going to get an opportunity like this again? Never in her slowly fleeting life. She stood up from her seat. She almost laughed when she saw how he felt uncomfortable.

"Starfleet is affiliated with peace." She approached him with both ease and caution. "Organized to bring harmony to the galaxy." It sounded like a fairy tale. "Much in the same vain that your people were meant to be our peace keepers in times of war."

Marla McGivers wanted to get a good look at the legend she had been hunting for as long as she could remember. They were designed to be beautiful and dangerous, like a Venus fly trap, colorful and deadly. She looked at his cheekbones, high and mighty. His flexed chest was steady in each breath. His eyes suddenly were locked onto her eyes. She settled in his gaze admiring him.

"There can be no peace without war, Mr. Harrison." She reached out to him pulling back fear and letting it be a mere tingle in her mind. She wanted to feel just what made him so much stronger than her. What made him superior. His chest was warm as she felt his 21st century heart thunder against his ribcage. It was a strong heart she wished she had. He was a living, breathing piece of history. "This is why you were awoken from your dreams of chaos. This is why you will build weapons for Starfleet in order to keep your crew safe." She watched him as she slowly lifted her hand off his chest.

Marla expected him to kill her then. She could see it in her mind. He'd rip the cuffs from the table, bring them around her neck and choke her. She could even feel the cold metal around her throat. Instead he stared forward in silence. She almost smiled when she thought of all the ideas piling in his head. They were quick thinkers. Just like she had always imagined.

Her fascination with the superior men known as the Augments had lasted her for nearly a decade however she had felt as if today it had only just begun. She had met one. She had smelt his musk, touched his flesh, felt his beating heart. She wondered if she would ever see something more exciting. It was a thought that she might be able to rest, but it was fleeting. Instead she wanted more. She often wished she had born in that time to see the wars ring out. To be amongst excitement and terror. Being in the midst of a coming war was a lot more exciting. She wanted back in that room the moment she excited.

Marla McGivers wanted to become a part of the history books before she died.


	4. Assistant

Chapter Four: Assistant

Even at four in the morning with her head in the toilet she couldn't help thinking of her encounter with the man of the past. Marla wiped her mouth flushing down what had come up feeling her body settle once more. She tied her hair up hoping to make it look fuller. She wondered if she had made any lasting impression on the man called John Harrison. She'd love to ask him more questions, but she doubted Marcus was willing to give her another meeting with the man.

She looked into the mirror noticing she didn't look better or worse from the day before. Marla had spent four days without hearing a word from the admiral. She had finally come to the realization she may never hear from him again. She had spent most of her time attempting to keep down food these days. The pills she took made her nauseous beyond repair.

It was ten in the morning when she got the call. Marcus was on the other side which caused her tone to become less annoyed by the fact that he was enticing her once more.

"Lieutenant McGivers, I'm going to need you to come to the archives once more." He said with some sort of undertone.

"Yes, Sir." She didn't question it.

Marla was at "Section 31" again before she knew it. Somehow she had managed to find herself excited again. John Harrison had proved to be incredibly fascinating and true to the history books. She had once called the superior men and women of the Eugenetics Wars 'better to humankind in every way'. That's what made them dangerous. They were better. Marcus shouldn't have awoken him. He should have let Harrison's dreams remain dreams. Even as selfish as she was to learn more about the history he held in his memories she couldn't possibly fathom the lives that were at stake. One Augment was enough to turn the world to dust.

"I was rather impressed by the way you handled, Harrison, Lieutenant." Marcus seemed sincere. "I was correct in my assumption that you are a highly knowledgeable individual in your field."

"Thank you, Sir." Marla was rather confused as she thought she hadn't handled the man well at all. She had been selfish. She had touched when she should have merely spoke. She may have even provoked him. "Has he said anything more to you?"

"That's precisely why I called you here, Lieutenant." She walked with him as they spoke trying to find reason within the war bent higher up. "It appears that Commander Harrison is only willing to speak to someone who understands him. He asked for you by name. He has requested that you become his assistant. You will be working side by side with Harrison and only Harrison."

Marla wasn't sure how to feel about the words the admiral spoke. After four days of nothing here she was getting exactly what she wanted and what she feared, more time with a super soldier. Fascination and danger were intertwining once more in the lieutenant's mind. She swallowed harshly before beginning to speak.

"Forgive me, Admiral." She said softly before deciding on her response carefully. "But this man is dangerous. I do not think it would be wise to allow myself time alone with him. Especially considering who he is." She was sorry she said the last bit of information. Marcus' expression seemed to contort. She may have imagined him reaching for his weapon.

"Who he is, Lieutenant?" Marla could see she was treading on thin ice. She was revealing too much about her own personal knowledge of the wars.

"A captain." She tried to make herself not seem so intelligent. "When I spoke to him he said _my _crew. He said it as if he were the captain, the leader. He is responsible for these men and women. Besides," She suppressed a cough. "If you meant to only revive one individual from their cryosleep the captain would be the one awoken first." She couldn't tell if the admiral seemed impressed or not. He simply looked to her as they stopped outside an armored large door.

"Harrison." He said with pride as if the man were his son. Marla was aware Alexander Marcus only had one child. Carol Marcus. Also in Starfleet. "Will not be a problem for you." She felt the lie. Marla knew the admiral didn't believe it. He couldn't. The last door they were to go through had a keypad and an eye scanner. The Admiral held his eye up to the device. Marla sheepishly looked at the six guards standing at attention.

"Excuse me, Admiral, but I don't think you fully comprehend this man." She had to be blunt with him. Her life was on the line. Despite her failing health and her fascination, Marla McGivers did not want to die. Not now. Not ever. "They tore apart countries in days. Killed as many as thirty million people making this world a near waste land."

"This is what you want isn't McGivers?" She could have said no or yes. Both answers would be correct. Instead her lips formed together, closed. "There will be armored guards outside and cameras around you at all times."

"That doesn't matter." She shook her head. "You are only giving him an audience. Feeding into his ego." She felt her heart quicken. She wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement.

"Lieutenant." His voice echoed the hall. It caused her to stiffen. "You will do as I say. You may have been suspended due to your illness, but you are still a member of Starfleet." His voice then lowered slightly. "You will assist Special Agent John Harrison in his work in our weapons department. You will do your best to follow his orders when I am not present. He is making this fleet stronger Lieutenant. And you will assist him in doing so."

"Yes, Sir." She breathed in.

"You will not breathe a word of this to the outside world. Understood?" She nodded as the man spoke. "This is kept here. You will continue reporting until I say you are done." She heard his undertone was almost sarcastic at the last word. The man was graciously aware of her condition. "I don't know why Harrison picked you, but you are the one he picked."

"Because of my knowledge I imagine, Admiral. Isn't that why you called me here to speak to him?" Marcus didn't respond. He merely told her someone would come to retrieve her when her time was up.

The admiral rushed off in a huff. Marla attempted to breathe hoping she would find some relief from the admiral's absence. Instead she found only a swelling feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched the doors slid open. The guards remained at the door. She imagined Marcus didn't want them seeing what exactly was going on behind those doors.

She walked into the dimly lit work room. She saw various tables set up as work stations sprawled out with weapons of every shape and size scattered on them. She watched the red sparks come from the center of the room. In the middle laid a work in progress. It was a photon torpedo, white and pristine. She saw it unmistakably being worked on by the Augment.

"Marcus certainly has you busy, Agent Harrison." She watched his head pop out of the grey torpedo pod. Goggles were plastered across his face. He shut off his tool lifting his goggles off slowly. Harrison studied her. "I was surprised you requested me as an assistant." His eyes went back down to his work.

"You are quite knowledgeable as a historian and with weaponry, Lieutenant." Harrison stated clearly. "It would be a sin to use anyone else. Your skill set is a unique combination." He glanced over Marla for a moment letting his eyes settle again on her eyes.

"I am here for your assistance." She let a smile spread, but it seemed fake. She felt like she was imprisoned with Harrison. She merely had to wait it out. Was she to be killed by the building disease in her body or at the hands of her superior to her? Be it Marcus or Harrison or both.

"Yes." He said softly. "I suppose you are." He pushed his goggles back down his face squeezing himself back into the pod and back to his work. The room was dark and smelt wet. The red lights weren't satisfying her. She noticed how the man was doing his best to modify the interior. Curiosity could have overcome her, but she found the smaller weapons more intriguing.

She aimlessly explored the lab peering at the tables. She recognized several weapons and parts. She looked at where he worked each time before she touched them, but he didn't seem to have his focus on her. That was something that scared Marla. If he needed to have her here why wasn't he using her to his advantage? She checked the corners for the small cameras. The guards still were outside the room. She stared at the door hoping they would materialize. Marla knew they weren't coming, but she could find come hope.

"You're modifying the interior." Her voice squeaked. She hated that he may have heard her terror. The words she spoke were a statement and fact. Photon torpedoes were often considered essential to a starship. However Marla knew that they suffered many downfalls. She looked to the side of the pod noticing the fuel container had been removed.

"I am improving." She could hear his voice echo over the reaming of sparks and sharp grizzly saws. "Correcting their work." She nodded once deciding to peer over his plans. The blue prints toward the work he needed were detailed in small neat print. Despite being an intellectual warrior his hand writing was nearly unreadable. She could read some words. His ideas were vast and assured.

"What makes you certain you can make these torpedoes impervious to sensors?" Her finger tips traced the blue lines outlining the shape of the torpedo. She lifted the thin sheet of paper seeing a second layer. Her eyes widened at the new words. "Oh." She smiled at the words 'inner casing' that highlighted exactly how Harrison's modifications would be incorporated.

She marveled at Harrison's design not caring that he didn't seem to need her help in that moment. Eventually Harrison came out of his case pulling at the goggles from his head and tossing aside his tools. She saw his eyes fall to the plans in front of her. Harrison took a step beside her looking over her shoulder casting his shadow to her. She closed her eyes trying to make an attempt to breathe and not listen to the blood pumping loudly from fear of the man.

"Did you," She took a pause to compose herself and clear her throat. She could still taste the bile from her sickness. "Arm yourselves with these sorts of weapons in the wars? I haven't heard of weapons of this magnitude being used."

She didn't see his face when she spoke. His body quickly passed her moving around the work station with his blue print to another one. That table held various phasers from different parts in time. He picked up a bulky looking black cased phaser. The thing was nearly as large as Harrison's torso looking dense yet he easily picked it up with on hand.

"This," He said examining the weapon. "Was a heavily powered first attempt humanity made at creating a phased weapon." Marla knew this weapon. Her father had declared it one of his favorites of the old style guns.

"The draw back was its heft." She saw Harrison maneuver his fingers over the crevasses as she finished his thought. "And that it often back fired causing a massive explosion. The nickname was the suicide gun." The shooter would often become a living bomb with bones and guts acting as projectiles that would cause massive damage.

"A savage weapon created in a savage time." She knew the time period. It was during the reign of the first Augment, designed by German engineers. They meant to cause as much damage as possible. He placed the weapon with a clunk to the table.

"Did it work?" There were zero accounts of the weapon successfully ending the lives of Augments. However once in the superior beings' hands, those less superior took the greater loss. The Augments were merely severely burned by the blast. There was a beautiful painting of one such soldier bursting into flames from that time period.

"You know what it did, Lieutenant." She had hoped to hear the tales from the man's mouth, but he didn't seem to speak of it.

"I'd like to hear it from the mouth of a man who was there." She wanted to know despite how intimidating he appeared. Despite how aware she was that he could break her at any moment. "I want to hear your tales of carnage."

His eyes rose from his weapons to her. They almost seemed unemotional yet she saw a hint of his feeling in his raised brow. He was intrigued by her. So Harrison humored her with stories. He told of himself fighting in the first battles of the Eugenetics Wars. He spoke of his attempts to obtain weapons from his creators. Harrison mentioned weapons of all kinds in his stories. He spoke of bravery amongst his men when he found his comrades.

"Friends can only be found in times of war." He looked to Marla with a little excitement in his eyes. The pale piercing blue glittered at the memories of war. "Trust is built on the battlefield."

"You found your crew in the most dangerous days, the ending days." She knew maybe speaking about his comrades would be a benefit or a horrible mistake. She watched him closely to see which he would choose to give her. His eyes averted from her once more as he looked to a smaller rounder weapon, a less dangerous one from what Marla knew.

"Formed from the ashes of what we had created." Eventually humanity had made a bitter come back after four long years of being ruled. "My crew followed me as we became condemned, the last of our kind." Records of who was lost and who was killed of these superior beings were not well kept. Hundreds of beings had been created, now only seventy three remained.

"You fled for self-preservation." The red head concluded. Harrison didn't seem to judge her by the statement only stare carefully at her with eyebrows knitted together. "A courageous act is to know when your war is lost."

"We did not lose." He said flatly tilting his head very slightly. "We were used. They used what we had made against us, our weapons, our empires, our people." Empires. She let the word settle in her mind.

"Your crew," She made it very clear that she had them in her mind. It was why Harrison was doing all this. She knew that. "Is supremely loyal to you. Just as you are to them."

"There is no such loyalty today." Harrison pointed out her current predicament quite abruptly. "He tosses you to me like a sacrificial lamb." His eyes matched those of a wolf readying to slaughter the lamb. She quivered slightly. It was painful how close Marla seemed to be to death and how much more she wanted to know before it.

"It's no matter to Marcus." Her voice was almost a whisper. She couldn't look at Harrison any longer. Her eyes went to the dark padded floor. "I am to die either way. Why should I die without a purpose?"

She had been thinking of the whys behind Marcus' decision to appease Commander Harrison since she walked in. It was clear to her the more she spoke with Harrison. It was a game. A game she was merely a pawn in. Harrison and Marcus were the only players. However Marla was willing to play her own game.

"I know what he means to do." She said it so clearly.

"And what is that Lieutenant?" The intrigue in his voice was clear. Her eyes were on him before the words left her mouth.

"He means to watch you kill me." She could see his body stiffen at the words. "No guards means he does not wish for my safety, yet they are outside to reassure me. Weapons are here for your choosing, but you wouldn't use them, not when you can prove just how truly superior you are." His strength would kill her better than any weapon could. "They may come if I scream, but you will be too fast for them to respond." She snapped her eyes back at him moving toward him. The echo of her heels followed. "I am dying. You would so very easily shatter me. Putting me as one of the only things between you and your escape is so very tempting." She was an arm's length from him. "Marcus means to witness how savage you truly are."

She could almost feel the heat radiate off his body. She saw him raise his chin slightly. For a moment she thought he would comply with Marcus' thought process. He almost seemed to nod at her final words. She meant to move away from him. To step away from John Harrison in fear. She wasn't sure why her foot stumbled forward. She nearly fell at the dizziness, but she caught herself on the table. The floor spun growing closer and further away. If he was to end her, now would be the time. She saw a larger set of boots approach her from under the table. They focused in and out of her vision.

"Sit." She looked up to see his eyes shift toward a location. His hands were behind his back. Marla didn't allow her eyes to follow his. She was attempting to regain her proper vision. "There." She finally saw what he was motioning toward. A bed in the corner was set up, one that would only fit the man's tall length and width and nothing more.

She made her way there painfully aware that Harrison was following her. When she sat the mattress squeaked. It had been perfectly made before her body had caused the sheets to wrinkle. Sitting felt good. She let out a stable sigh. Harrison watched her in that moment almost studying her.

"I wish you had something better to admire, Agent Harrison." Her voice almost laughed as she attempted to break his gaze from her. She flicked her lashes unable to deduce whether the Augment was being a tactician or a man. "I'm not much to look at in my condition."

Marla McGivers had been drastically losing weight as her disease worsened. Nearly fifty pounds had drained off of her frame. Once she had been a voluptuous. Now she was a stick with breasts. Her bones in her wrists were showing. She rubbed her fingers across the fabric to feel her ribcage. The skin was becoming thinner on her body to the point where she could feel the simplest of touches. She had even begun to move her head more carefully as to not allow her hair to fall from atop the mass she had created.

"Your condition is more of a concern to Admiral Marcus then it is to me." He admitted examining her from head to toe. "You are quite convenient to his cause. A sickly woman who's death no one will question. One who provides the knowledge he desires and the assistance I require."

"I'm certainly made for both of your conveniences." Her words were strongly spoken with bitter sarcasm. His brow creased very slightly, only for a moment. "The fascination with weaponry keeps me here. The draw to your history feeds my appetite." She wanted to say one more thing, but thought better of it. She didn't want to tell him his character had always drawn her into the history of the 20th century. "Does it not serve me right for entering the den of a beast?" She looked down almost ashamed with herself. She had fallen into this rabbit hole. There was no way of bringing herself back up. It terrified her that she wanted to stay there. She loved the mess she created.

"I promise you, you will not die by my hands."

She was surprised to hear the words come from his lips. Marla looked up to make sure there wasn't a hideous smile plastered on his face to show he was about to break the promise he had just made. His face was masked with certainty. He studied her face as well. She wondered what he saw there. Did he see that she was fearful of death? That it was breathing down her neck every step she took. Did he see that she was a corpse waiting for burial?

"I," She wasn't sure what to say next, but she said what she felt. "I'm not sure if that would be best." His smooth features creased once more. She was making the superior man utterly confused. Marla let herself smile. "My supposed death will be one where I suffer from the inside. I have been fighting this death for months now." She could recall that they had at first given her weeks after the overexposure to radiation. "To have you kill me," She swallowed trying to debate her words. "Would be a disgrace if I did not fight you as I am fighting now. You do what you need to, Harrison, but do not expect me to die without combat."

That's when she heard it. A soft chuckle vibrated in his throat yet his lips remained closed. Marla nodded closing her eyes in a moment. She liked the way his laugh sounded. She wondered if it was to be the last thing she would hear. She clenched her fists ready for him to try. She knew he wouldn't. The next words spoke her thoughts.

"If I was to attempt to kill you, Lieutenant, you would not feel it. It would be quick and painless." She battered her eyes open as he smiled. "But I will not kill you. Not because you are a woman. I have killed many women in my life time. They are just as dangerous as men. Sometimes even more so." She wondered if his words were to match his gaze of her now, slow and steady.

"I will not kill you because you are useful to me. I requested your presence for a reason. You are intelligent and you understand my purpose. Marcus may have his game, but I have mine." He made sure the last word was heard by the young woman. "And I am sure you will have yours." She found herself impossibly fascinated by the last comment. She was playing her game now in choosing to fight. Marla knew the Augments enough to know what they admired, but she also knew she was tired of suffering. "It will be a hardship if you choose to die, but considering what you have just told me I imagine you will wish to continue to assist me in my duties."

She nodded her head able to make that deal with Harrison. She would help him as long as she had breath left in her. She knew that people like Harrison could break their promises, but she also knew when they were loyal to a cause they remained that way for their lifetime. Marla liked to believe Harrison could be loyal to his word.


	5. Plasma

**Author's Note:** Science was the enemy of this chapter. Much research was put into making this what it was. So I apologize if some facts or not quite correct. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Chapter Five: Plasma

Marla watched the pills swirl around the toilet evading her gaze.

The woman stared at the empty containers on the ledge of the sink noting how barren her medicine cabinet had become. She was finally free. Months of hard work at keeping her body regulated were bubbling away in the sewers of London. Despite finally having the courage to toss her pills away she hadn't been taking them as she used to. She steadied herself against the toilet almost crumbling to her knees as she felt the unsteadiness. Her dizziness was a result of her fear, her shadow of death was looming closer.

She would be free from that soon, perhaps in death. The young woman would no longer feel nauseous at every turn. She would no longer need to rest constantly. Her head would no longer be spinning. Marla McGivers would have her senses back in every way. She'd be the best self she could be.

Still the thought nagged her, the uneasy feeling that these body changing medications were saving her life. She knew they had been helping her, despite feeling worse from the medication then actually reacting to the radiation poisoning. She hadn't really been all too affected by the poisoning beside her lack of appetite, sensitive skin, and loss of hair. She tried hard not to recall the images of her blotchy skinned mother attempting to speak as she died.

Marla shut her eyes trying to think of anything else, but her mortality. Yes, she understood without the medicine she would die, but her instability was to affect her work with Harrison. She wanted to be a part of the restoration of several unique 20th century weapons. Her hands could not be shaking when she held these dangerous things. She couldn't need to sit when there was work to be done, things to discover. Despite the fact that she had been sent there merely for Marcus to see Harrison's savagery she wasn't about to waste an opportunity. Her life was ending after all.

Her hands smoothed the porcelain toilet before she was ready to get herself up. Marla found her center ready to get back to her work. Section 31 was calling her. Weeks had gone by since her first working interaction with Harrison. She had continued to assist the man unharmed. The weapons, as they were finished, soon began to disappear. She had hoped she had proved acceptable at assembling the rarities Harrison found in his care.

The doctor was very observant of the way the augment quickly handled his weapons. The phasers were taken apart and put back together with ease. His fingers danced across buttons and wires working to make the fixtures click together. He never fired them. He simply put them aside letting his eyes shift from one instrument to the next. It was incredibly fascinating to watch. The man was like a machine in his hard pressed movements. She wondered if the motivation the admiral created had even played a factor or if he was simply bidding his time waiting for a good moment to attack.

Marla knew from her research the augments were known for their patience. They observed and sought out a deep seeded weakness in their enemies and only when they saw that glimmer of uneasiness in those they deemed unworthy they would cut them straight through. She wondered if Harrison was willing to see her weakness now that he had promised to not harm her. So far the man had been good to his word.

She wasn't quite sure what she was looking at by the dimming lights in the work room. She would have complained to Marcus about it if he hadn't gone back to headquarters. She couldn't seem to find anyone willing to talk to her these days, at least in Starfleet. As she approached the middle of the room her eyes widened.

"Is that -?" Her pace quickened as she asked.

Harrison was off in another corner with his blueprints again. Marcus seemed to have tasked the man with focusing on designs while Marla was there to restore the old into the new. The plasma cannon mounted on the long table was what Marla's eyes became fixated on. The large equipment took up the whole space. Marla was amazed by its condition. She hadn't seen one up close. They were supposedly all destroyed long ago after the Eugeneic Wars. They had been used on smaller starships, but the augments had ripped them off and modified them to their liking. Truly the weapon was a beautiful sight.

"The core is missing." Harrison said aimlessly. "I'm told there are no replacements."

It was common in those types of weapons. They were made so quickly to be so light that often the interior would leak causing a lack of pressure and therefore a lack of damage. Marla also knew what had been put into this weapon was no longer still around. She mused over the black outer area noting the details on its structure. The weapon was rare to find. Marla had only seen one in scarce footage of an early Augment escaping from the German base, the first of the rebellion of the super men. That footage had been blurry at best.

"No," The red head agreed shifting in gray work pants. "It's a shame too. They made such pretty green colors." She was about to wonder what to do with the thing when she had something pop into her head. "Commander Harrison?" It was the first time in a long time she had properly addressed him.

His head peeked up from his work. A pen was still in his hand. She noted he liked to work with his hands. She had always imagined his kind did. Marla could see Harrison was a bit numb to her appearance by now. She had never been a problem to his work, but Marla was seeing in that moment that she perhaps had picked the wrong time to speak up.

"The hull of your torpedo. The one that is impervious to sensors."

"No." He said it before she could finish.

"You didn't let me –"

"No, Dr. McGivers you cannot use my design to make the canons inner layer able to hold the leak of energy to convert the core." He said not looking up her. Harrison's voice replied with such clarity it almost frightened her. She could hear his voice echo against the walls.

"But, Sir, this weapon," She had thought he would interrupt her, but Marla quickly saw his eyes were looking at her from under his brow, annoyed, but still willing to listen. "If we only restore one we can show Marcus how efficient they can be." She turned from him looking to the weapon running her finger over it as if it were her pet. "I'd like to see her fire." She felt utterly like her father in that moment, crazy about shooting off one weapon or another.

"Just the one." Harrison stated. "You rebuild just this one. The rest of the material is mine." Marla nodded quite suddenly as Harrison began to roll up his plans. Slowly she saw his face no longer become ridged, but instead cast a hint of joy. "I'd like to see it for myself as well Lieutenant." She could see his eyes become like hers as he approached the canon. "It's been a long time since I've seen a weapon like this," He grabbed the thing with one hand tilted it upward and toward him with ease. "Create such beautiful chaos."

Marla marveled at the ease he had with such a dangerous weapon before he slowly put it down. He turned to her with a gravity to his eyes. She swallowed slowly expecting to cough, but it didn't come out. She felt relief and fear mixed together. Harrison took a steady step toward her, his chest an inch or so from her shoulder. He leaned downward popping the top of the canon.

"It would be best if you got to work," His breath was saturated with a mix of hot air and sharp words. "Doctor."

It took Marla days to work on it. She found Harrison to work on his designs more often than he paid attention to her details. Still she caught him glancing at her hands running along the interior checking the under belly for imperfections. Marla knew it had to be perfect. Everything had to be right in order to contain the radiation. She closed her eyes when she thought about the pulsing rays eliminating their enemy through a burning fiery sensation of radioactive material. The red would suit the weapon better. She made the interior well. She crafted the canon finely with the steadiest of touches.

Marla wondered if the restoration should have taken her nearly as long as it did. She was glad her hands were steady. She was glad to wear her gloves as she rewired parts and fashioned metal to the shattered inside. Harrison continued creating plans and designs for Marcus. The writings and drawings didn't concern her at all. She was more interested in the weapons. Soon it became clear to Marla that her talents were for that reason only. Marcus needed weapons from the past, but he also needed a mind worthy of creating high technology for the future. Harrison was his man on that.

Ten days into the project was when the canon clicked for the first time.

"Oh!" Marla raised her hand in alarm as the inside suddenly hummed red. The insides were glowing. She could feel her heart racing watching the canon buzz. She snapped the container closed letting the humming dull and a snap echo.

There it was.

"Done." The word was a whisper of relief.

Marla McGivers suddenly needed the piece in her hands. Her strength was minimal, but she did not care. Her attempt to pick the canon up was successful for about a moment or two before the heavy lower half started to teeter. Harrison had been making his way over in time to level the canon. He ran his thumb over the wide firing canister. He observed it closing listening softly to the hum. She could have sworn his low voice was mimicking the sound.

"A suitable job, Lieutenant." He acknowledged quietly. His fingers ran over the weapon with a similar edge to his touch as the self-proclaimed weapons expert. His eyes then focused on the trigger. Marla's boney fingers were ghosting it. She watched his slow smile at her anticipation. "I doubt the admiral will let you witness the destruction she creates." Slowly he lifted the weapon from her hands placing it with a firm easiness on the table.

"I've," She paused before speaking again. Her eyes were glued to the weapon, so beautiful and raw, a mix of her creation and the augments' invention. "Seen it fired once before." She soon corrected herself looking to Harrison to explain. "Well actually thousands of times. There is rare footage of the wars, but the first breakout has the plasma canons featured." She could see the blurred image of the blonde man running in her mind. He swept the weapon against doctors before blasting guards in the distance. It was a remarkable use of combat and weaponry combined into one.

"Armon was a fool." She saw Harrison's disgust as he spoke through tight lips. "He did not survive long after that."

"Four months I believe." Marla confirmed recalling the records. "The first augment to break free and the first to die. He ran on shear will force and power. A dangerous combination without thought." She watched his expression. He seemed relieved by her statements.

"The Germans have always been cruel in history." He broke his contact with her admiring the weapon once more. "However the Durcheinander facility was not one of the cruelest sites they perfected our forms in."

Her history was being tested. She knew that a worldwide project had begun in the early 1980s to perfect humanity in order to keep the world at peace. The scientists were resulting in different forms of Augments. It was why she could nearly tell Harrison's point of origin. His mannerisms, extreme ambition, and complete devotion to his people were far different from the easily slaughtered hot heads with all impulse and no thought that escaped from Durcheinander.

"Kali offered little hope to those who would escape her walls." Marla referred to the Kali facility in the heart of the poor sectors of India with ease.

The base had been concealed as an orphanage and factory for its augments. They worked under harsh conditions before a rebellion broke out. She watched his face knowing full well that he had been one of the few to survive Kali, the facility named after the Hindu goddess of chaos. His British accent would put him there. There were no facilities established in Britain at the time. His posture was a note of the strict rules the facility laid out for their creations. His utter hatred for those who were inferior would have been brought about by his upbringing amongst those who knew him better and treated him as worse. From everything she had read Kali was the worse facility to be brought into the world. Perfection was the only option.

"A very proper quote for such a place." Harrison remarked able to create a dead pan look into Marla's eyes. "No hope."

Marla cleared her throat abruptly feeling a bit violated by the words as if Harrison was directly referring to her condition. There was no hope for her to survive much longer. She was done with medication. She was letting the death take her when it saw fit. Marla wanted to die without aid from drugs. She wanted her body to die fighting and her mind to still be able to do what she loved with ease. She soon snapped her neck to Harrison looking at him in a similar solemn expression.

"Marcus will let me see these weapons fired." She didn't explain why he would, but simply stated it as fact.

She knew Marcus had to have an expert in the room to see if the weapon came out properly. She half expected Harrison to fire it and escape however she knew guards were pressing themselves outside the doors. She also knew that augments bided their time. Blasting his way through Section 31 was no way to keep his people safe. She watched as Harrison simply nodded going back to continue his work.

Marla was right.

She had gotten a request the following day to enter a firing range where Starfleet was to test her weapons. She had already restored lower class weapons perversely before the plasma canon. The step up was outdoors in an open field Marla had gotten into a cab to travel there. She hadn't been blindfolded. It disappointed and frightened her. She didn't have much longer to live Marcus suspected. Perhaps he knew she was off the medication, that she had stopped refilling her pills or seeing her doctor. Maybe Marcus was glad she had accepted her fate.

Only four Starfleet officers were at the firing trail. When it came time for the canon to be fired Marla could feel her pulse rise. She was instructed to wear headphones however she refused.

"I have to hear the sound." She clarified. "It needs to sound right." The sound on the footage of Armon's escape was not quite clear, so she would be hearing the canon fire for the first time.

The officers looked to her questioningly. They had had those look on her since they had been instructed to pick her up however these looks raised new questions. Their superior waved her off with a shrug before putting on his head phones. One of the officers carried the canon out with steady ease. He struggled only mildly with it. She noted that Harrison would merely have lifted it to his shoulder to fire. A target of foam and rubber was set up to aim at. The target was placed quite a distance away, far enough that Marla could only recognize the shape of the figure, but not the details.

"You need to raise it higher." She alerted the officer with a shout. He only had it to his waist. He did as he was told.

She listened to the superior give a countdown before the weapon was to be fired. Marla could hear her heart in her ears. She suddenly realized it was the fastest her heart had raced since she had first faced John Harrison with burning questions. Now she would see some fire again. When the one was sounded off the blast peeled from the gun, faded red like she had tampered with, it blistered out in a ping knocking the officer into a stumble backwards. The beam blasted the figure into a mix of ash and fire.

Marla made a noise that alarmed the other officers. The noise was something gasping and orgasmic. Her breath stuttered as her teeth shone through her smile. It was an awe inspiring sight to finally see a weapon burn so bright. She was on the balls of her feet nearly jumping for joy at the sight of the destruction. She could only imagine the real damage it could do.

"The admiral will be pleased." The superior concluded before addressing Marla. "I assume that's how you wanted it to go." She didn't speak. Marla only nodded. It had gone better than what she wanted.

The next day she entered Harrison's weapons' room noting the lights had gotten bright. The red dimming was replaced with a softer white gleam. She was about to say something about Marcus rewarding them for hard work when Harrison spoke.

"Your reaction was rather divine, Dr. McGivers." Harrison was smirking as he fiddled with a rifle sized phaser. He didn't make eye contact with her just at his work.

"You saw?" She wondered how, but not why.

"They wanted confirmation that the weapon succeeded." He finally took his eyes off his prize, but they feel into the space in front of him, not on her. "It went better than I expected."

"And my reaction?" Marla was finding it hard to imagine that through the blast Harrison could hear her, but it was a complete possibility given his background.

"A hopeful sign for humanity." He merely said as he looked at her with soft restless eyes.

When his gaze was over he went back to work. She toyed with other things processing the information as the day went on. Harrison and Marla merely worked side by side that day never touching or interfering with the work of one another. She glanced at his designs for a wireless transporter deeming it truly uninspiring to herself. No destruction could be had in it. Marcus was simply using intelligence at that time. She felt dissatisfied that he was not using the truly savage parts of Harrison's mind. That was left up to her by rebuilding his past.

When she arrived back home from the day's work it was quite late. She kicked off her boots and quickly undressed herself. Marla McGivers more often than not found clothes restricting. She was left in a faded white bra and panties to mull over Harrison's words about hope, hope for her, hope for humanity. She could have been over thinking it, but she thought perhaps there was something more to his words.

With need for caffeine, she replicated some coffee deciding some reading on her subject was important at this moment in time. She had suspected who Harrison could be. Few pictures survived however tyrants of the Eugeneic Wars had vast structures left. She flipped through pages of books created by her colleagues stating brief details of the wars before deciding to move onto their creation. She dashed in and out of readings of selected facilities that bred augments for higher purpose. Some were deemed sanitary. Some were deemed inhuman. She had read these facts before.

However she nearly teetered her coffee into her lap when reading Suzette Pierce's book, _The Study of the Advanced Body Through History_. Suzette and Marla had worked together on a project exploring the site of the last battles of the Eugeneic Wars. Suzette had always been more fascinated by the bodies of the augments rather than the weapons. Their bones had been quite an exciting find for the promising young doctor. Marla slowly allowed her finger to glide over the words describing facilities that experimented on their experiments:

"Unlawful inhumane experimentation occurred perhaps resulting in a bitterness to humanity in the augments. Facilities of the late nineteen eighties showed that before their rebellion these men and women were subjected to torture to test their endurance to disease, burnings, and gunfire. The hardship laid in the fact that many endured these tests through suffering."

The word disease popped into her mind. She flicked through Dr. Pierce's book looking for something else that mentioned anything about these unkillable men however she found nothing more relating to that. Suzette was discussing biological warfare on the following page. As the passage seemed to end abruptly Marla decided it was best to finally put some contact between her and her old friend. Suzette was now a wife, mother, and doctor living in South Africa. The time was much earlier there in that moment.

"Suzette?" She heard a screaming baby in her communicator instead of a female voice. "It's Marla."

"Marla?" The voice sounded tired and groggy.

"Yes," She said softly sipping at the last of her now lukewarm coffee. "I didn't mean to disturb you." Marla was actually glad she had. Her feelings were soon faltering to not caring for the needs of others. "But I was looking through your book . . ."

"Marla, it's quite early here." She said as the child screamed once more. This time it wailed. "And I haven't heard from you in ages."

"I have been . . . dealing." Marla heard the silence in Suzette's voice as she quickly decided to calm the baby down. The sound grew into a peaceful coo.

"This is about my thesis book?" The medical doctor asked quietly.

"Yes," Marla nodded her head as if the woman could see her. "About the augment section to be more specific."

"Of course it is." Her voice sounded drained. Marla didn't like the tone or the more chirper tone she forced out. "What intrigues you about it Marla? We've discussed it in length several times." While that fact was true Dr. McGivers was never quite finished with the history of the super beings. "Are you finally writing that tyrant book you've always talked about?" Marla wrapped a sheet around her body before answering. The coffee mug was on her night stand before she completed the task.

"Not . . . yet." She mused over the subject time and time again. If she wasn't writing it now she wouldn't ever see it finished. She only had a hundred pages of her Napoleon section completed. "I was more interested in the biology of the augments."

"For what?" Marla had forgotten how inquisitive Suzette was. It was rather annoying.

"I'm," She paused trying to find the right lie. "Working at the archives again." Suzette and Marla had once held positions there together. "I'm verifying information from a data entrance taken from . . . India. More specifically north India. Where Kali was located. In your book you describe experiments that occurred on the augments. Torture."

"That's right." Dr. Pierce clarified.

"You stated that they continued to heal. Was it ever discovered why?" There was a long pause as Marla waited. She heard everything in the background of Suzette's place, the chewing of food, the rolling of wheels perhaps from a child's toy, and the hum of a broadcast mumbling about recalls.

"It was rumored by some researchers at the time," She heard Suzette take in a breath as if she were about to lie or tell an honest truth. "That the augments were perfected to withstand any harm or disease. The plasma in their blood fought off the effects better than white blood cells ever could. They almost worked together." Marla felt her heart sink and soar together. "They were only rumors Marla. What data is asking you to verify these so called rumors?"

"It most be a mistake if it was only a rumor." She heard Suzette about to protest, but she didn't even get out a word before she stopped.

"It was nice to hear from you, Marla." Her voice was soft once more. "I am sorry to hear about what happened." The red head wasn't sure if she was talking about her or her mother. She tried to remember the last time she had spoken to the woman. Perhaps it was right after she had her son, her second child.

"So was I." Marla concluded. "Thank you, Suzette. You've been helpful." She snapped the device closed putting it beside the coffee mug.

Marla slowly sunk into bed laying her head carefully to the pillow. She thought about plasma. The blood inside her in that moment was thin and fading. Harrison's was thick and perhaps lifesaving. It was only a thought though. In her mind she imagined it was true, a great discovery. She could steal it from him, but that thought was barely formed before she denied it a chance to live. Marla then concluded the only other option, asking. Harrison still caused a slight quiver in her body, but she wasn't sure if that fear had developed into something else, perhaps admiration. Or perhaps something far more dangerous.

If she were to ask he would counter her with a request of his own. Marla had no doubt in her mind that he would want his escape and the return of his crew. Unleashing the augments back onto the world was a hard notion to swallow, however she would perhaps be alive and maybe even be spared. Marla didn't want to die withered if she was to die at all. She would have liked to die strong and still fighting, but she knew she was continuing to fight even now.

However the problem still was lingering. She could save herself. She could ask him for that favor, but she would only get one from the man. Marla let her reality fade into dreams as she debated whether or not her life was more precious then the death of the man who caused her death and the death of her mother.


	6. Ozymandias

Chapter Six: Ozymandias

Even as Marla read the words out loud she could only watch the man's vacant expression. He was balding now, staring out the window blankly. Her eyes would guide down his face not looking at the poetry book in her hands. She knew the poem by heart. His eyes were deep blue with an almost whitest tint to them to show his age and his faltering sanity.

His beard was grainy is spots around his chin and his mustache was curled across his cheeks. His hair curled a much darker red then hers around his head however his hairline had greatly receded. His fingers were in his mouth as his strong teeth crunched on his fingernails. Slowly she noted the hospital gown and the soft shoes on his feet. Freckles took over his pale arms that sprouted matching red hairs. Her voice quivered at the last couple lines as she shifted in her chair. She wanted to touch his knee to reassure him or get him to look at her, but she was afraid she would frighten him. Instead she shut the book ending it there. His eyes only shifted slightly.

"Do you remember it?" She wondered aloud running her hand over the rare piece in her hand. A book with pages was not usually found in their time. "You used to read it to me a lot. It used to be your favorite." She waited for the reaction.

"Still is." His voice was clear and calm though he did not look at her.

"I thought it'd be nice for your birthday, Dad." Marla was weary of speaking to her father especially given her situation. The last time for had seen him had been when she had arrived at the mental institution to tell him her mother had died. She hadn't known then that she was dying officially though it was quite obvious that was happening. Today she sought advice and offered him celebration for surviving the hell he lived in for another year.

"Years go by, but the world remains broken." He looked at her then twisting his body abruptly. "Does it break? Does the world break every time you take a step, baby?" She wished he was better, but her father had never been right. She just had never known what was to be acceptable in the world. She always saw her father's odd ways as quirks, not as dangerous paranoia that they became known to be.

"Sometimes, but I'm already broken." She shook her head tucking the book back into her gold colored purse. "The world be damned." She had been mulling since yesterday over her decision of what to ask Harrison for. A cure or a life taken.

"You live in the world." He clarified to his daughter He shifted closer readily accepting that he had the young woman's attention. "You make it your best."

"Not for long." Marla nearly whispered the words before finding herself snapping her eyes to her father. She looked around for a moment. Nurses were preoccupied with other things in the open family visiting room. "I'm in between thoughts here. I'm unsure if I should ask for my health or if I want to allow this world to be broken while I die."

She watched her father's reaction of contemplation. He looked serious in thought at her crazy words. Marla knew often enough that when she talked to her father she had to speak his language. He needed to understand her on his level. Marla watched her father scratch his beard. She noted how he had some white hairs between the reds.

"To die in this world would be a sin if it can change for the better." He confirmed nodding his head. She shifted her shoulders lightly ashamed to speak at the next turn.

"I'm working at the Kelvin Memorial Archives." Marla confirmed with a soft whisper. She half expected her controversy heavy government hatting father to roam into a rant of how she was not his daughter working for Starfleet again. The last time she had been there she had promised to quit the organization. Instead the man let yellow teeth shine.

"Continuing what I had tried." She wasn't sure why he said it, but he shifted a bulky ring off his finger. He held it out to her willingly. "Here," He shook the ring at her with a smile. "For your troubles. Nail those bastards." She took it gingerly examining it in her hands.

"It's your birthday." Marla stated instantly. "You shouldn't be gifting me."

"My gift can be your gift." He closed her hand around the ring. "You can do what I didn't get a chance to." Everything had been blurry around the imprisonment of her father. Her family had scattered apart during that time fifteen years ago.

Marla had only been fifteen when her mother had pulled her out of school. Ellen didn't have the courage to tell her daughter what exactly had happened with her husband, but only briefly mentioned he was in trouble and very troubled. Her father had been working at the archives for nearly ten years when the incident that seemed very secretive and hushed happened. It took Marla a while and some probing from relatives to finally discover what had happened. Her father had threatened Starfleet and supposedly had a bomb on him ready to blow up the archives.

He had been detained that day and eventually evaluated. It was determined that Martin McGivers suffered from mental illness. The diagnosis should have been picked up in medical screenings however someone had failed to identify the disorder along the lines. As no bombs were found on the man there was little proof that the man intended to attack other than hear say. Her mother had held her head high attempting to assist in her husband's living. However life proved difficult as Martin McGivers refused medication claiming it was 'beyond his natural body to take such things'. A notion Marla had fostered in her mind for years.

It took her mother a few years and some very strong incidents to finally allow herself to put her husband into the custody of people who would be forced to watch him. Despite putting him away Ellen McGivers remained married to the legally insane man until her death. She still loved him. Marla understood her mother's choices. Her brother had not. He eventually cut ties from his family unable to understand as a doctor the inability to help others. Marla was left tying the strings from mother to son whenever her older brother would visit her father. She hated being caught in the middle of things.

Yet here she was again caught in the middle of Marcus and Harrison's games.

She had to make her move soon if she was not to be devoured by either of them.

"I love you, Dad." She stood up breathing in for a moment. Her turtleneck was crushing her neck, but her skin was brutal in the cold. She kissed his dotted forehead with dry lips. She looked him over again trying not to imagine that this may be the last time she saw him. "I love you." She repeated it debating her decisions between death and life in her mind. He looked at her with deep eyes with a strong serious expression in them.

"Life is not worth the price of admission unless you play it right. Feel your decisions." She could handle those as the last words he would speak to her. She knew right then as she left her father what she had to do.

She was still carrying the book when she entered the archives however they told Marla she was not authorized to bring anything in with her. Security seemed to have buckled since the day before. She aimlessly wondered why that was, but found out through whispers that inspections on the building's safety were coming up. The lower secretive Section 31 would not be looked over. They wanted to make sure of that. Despite her book being gone from she still had a sliver of the paper hidden on her.

The paper that hid her request to Harrison.

Marla was not afraid of what Harrison would do once he obtained the request. The pounding in her heart was more of a fear of getting caught. She twisted her father's adjusted ring around her finger as she walked in. The room was nearly empty of weapons. She was a little taken a back. Harrison was at his spot outlining ideas and designs.

"Did he decide to limit our work?" She wondered examining the only rifle on the table. It seemed to be fairly stable. Only a few things needed to be tinkered with.

"Reworking their goals." Harrison admitted. "From what I understand they plan to mass produce your canon." The word sounded wrong on his tongue.

"It's not my work." She found herself facing away from him examining one of the few things she could work on. "It was your people who sought to weaponize it so perfectly."

"Are you frightened they will dispose of you soon, Lieutenant?" His question let her body breath. She was glad he could observe so well, however she was attempting on debating how to let Harrison come to her close enough to take the note from her.

"Death will come to me either way, Commander." She cleared her throat lightly trying to see if that would do it. She only heard the flipping of pages. "If Marcus should take my life in his hands I will welcome the challenge." There was no way she would not fight hard for her life if Marcus was to make an attempt on her.

"They watch you." He stated rather ominously. It caused Marla's head to turn. She was surprised to see him looking almost sadly to her. "An admiral makes sure his players are in position. Loyal. Willing." In that moment she thought of her father's words.

Marla McGivers had to play her game right. She had to play Harrison right. Bring him in. Allow him to feel close to her enough to slip the paper into his hand. She nodded to him before slowly turning. She began to adjust the bolts on the rifle musing over her thoughts. She thought about Kali and the few who had escaped the facility. She thought about the tyrant who had made his mark on the world. The tyrant whose name was exotic. The man, whose tyranny was extraordinary, had found himself obsessed with literature from times long passed. While Marla knew little work from ancient pass she knew enough to appear intelligent. Her mother had been an avid reader and her father had fancied poetry.

The man she thought of and long suspected Harrison of being was known to recite lines from literature during his reign. She could recall him citing _Moby Dick _as inspiration for going against mankind. Marla could have thought of any piece of work in her mind, but the words of the poem she had read her father this morning slipped out too easily.

"I met a traveler from an antique land." The words seemed too quiet and easy. Her fingers massaged the weapon. "Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert." She wondered if he was listening. If he heard her. If he knew the poem. If he was the man she thought he was his ears would be drawn in by the first line. "Near them on the sand, half sunk, a shattered visage lies." She heard a shift behind her as she swallowed thinking he was listening very closely like a good augment. She palmed the paper from her pocket.

"Whose frown and wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command," Her reading became more aggressive. She hoped that her tone would draw him closer. Her heart was beating rather quickly. A tool she held, clattered against the table. She let it lie there. "Tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things," She was whispering again yet she now could hear his steps.

She closed her eyes imagining his hands behind his back, his head tilting slightly to observe her in every way he could. She wanted his eyes on her. She wanted him to accept her request. It was too important not to. She then felt his body against her leaning with a brilliant heat his muscular chest against her back. The muscles in his chest were solid. His breathing was steady, but she still felt it. Harrison was burning. She had the note between her fingers. Her other hand was at her side.

"The hand that mocked them." She placed the note into Harrison's willing hand. "And the heart that fed." She felt something slip into her other hand just as she had given her note away. She had received a note from him. Marla could feel a mixture of emotions she didn't have time to identify press against her. The bridge of Harrison's nose stroked her hair and scalp. He let out a soft hot exhale. "And on the pedestal," She swallowed slowly as Harrison's free hand that had given a note grazed her hip lightly. "These words appear,"

"My name is Ozymandias," He pronounced each word with such vigor and force. "King of Kings." His fingers stroked lower against her thigh hooking his fingers around her hip bone. "Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."

His fingers and palm edged closer to her inner thigh. His hand closed in on reaching for her pelvis. The warmth drove Marla mad enough to allow her eyes to shut closed hoping for something more in that moment. Her quivers were no longer set to fear. He only hovered for a moment as if thinking whether to give her the pleasure of his touch. His hand retreated.

"Nothing beside remains." The words were almost said in disappointment. She could feel Harrison slowly begin to back away. "Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away." Her last word with said in a simple breath.

Marla wondered what Harrison would think of her note, of the scribbled words, "I want Admiral Marcus dead." She knew she had made the right choice. Vengeance was far greater then living any longer then needed. She could fight for herself, but she could not fight to destroy others. Harrison could. The pair didn't speak after the poem was said. Marla stayed busy until it was time to return home. Once safe in her walls she read Harrison's undeniably unoriginal request:

"Help me save my people."

**Author's Note:** This has been my favorite chapter to write so far. Just shows how similar Marla and John truly are. Plus the sexual tension is starting to emerge. What do you guys think of Marla and John's (Khan's) evolution so far? Did Marla's decision to negate her own well being for the death of another surprise you? Let me know what you guys think! :)

**PS**: Ozymandias is by Percy Bysshe Shelley, not me.


	7. A Good Tyrant

Chapter Seven: A Good Tyrant

There was a bar in London.

It was run by a former captain of Starfleet who welcomed any and all members of the organization into the poorly lit location. The wood framing of the place was shabby and the bar stools had peeled back layers of cushion exposed. Still cadets entered looking to find a woman willing to spend the night with a Starfleet officer. Many women came there if they were looking for strong powerful Starfleet men.

Marla merely came there to drink. Her conscious was slowly making its way into her mind. She had asked for a man's death. She chugged the bourbon down hard realizing what that meant. The lieutenant closed her eyes trying to envision the scene. Harrison would be taking quick steps toward a powerless Marcus. She clicked her glass against counter to awaken herself from that state. She asked the bartender for another.

"You don't look too well, sweetheart." The man had to be in his early sixties with a small lingering Scottish accent. "I don't know if I can serve you anymore." She looked to him with narrow eyes. She hadn't had many drinks that evening then again she couldn't recall the number she did have.

"I won't be denied my right to lose my senses." She wagged the glass in his face. The bartender just shook his head about to protest when a young man squeezed into the seat beside her.

"Well then how about me, Sir." His accent was upper class.

Marla looked at him noting the crew cut blonde hair, the blue Starfleet ensign, the remains of scruff, and the deeply crystal blue eyes. The bartender looked between the two before placing a shot glass on the corner and pouring it. The officer handed the man the money. When the bartender went to attend someone else where, Marla grabbed the shot. She downed it quickly seeing that his reaction was one of surprise.

"Didn't say that was yours." The cadet nearly chuckled with a smugness to him.

"I didn't think to ask." She told him. She glanced him over deciding he was decently handsome. "Are you a doctor?"

"Science officer." He corrected. "Ensign Richards." She saw he held out his hand. She didn't shake it. Formalities were always awful. Instead she swirled her finger around her empty glass. "Are you a member of Starfleet?"

"Yes," Marla had wanted to say no and begin the courtship with an affirmation that she enjoyed bedding officers, but lies weren't flowing like they should have tonight. "Lieutenant McGivers."

"You are too beautiful to be in Starfleet." He squeezed closer to her. He smelt awful. Like flowery cologne. "What ship are you on?"

"I work at the Kelvin Memorial Archives." She leaned across the bar retrieving a bottle from under the counter while the bartender's back was turned. She poured liquid into both glasses before placing it back as if she had never touched it. She raised her glass to him. "Cheers." He did the same clinging the glasses together. She threw back the drink, rum. It burned her throat enough to make her want to vomit, but she had resolve.

"What were we cheering?" He wondered aloud. Marla saw his eyes lingering slightly to her breasts. She was surprised men were still enchanted by her sickly body. She supposed a willing woman was as good as any woman.

"To our exploits tonight." She licked the bottom of the glass almost seductively. "I'm sure shagging you will be entertaining." Not much more could be said after that. Marla was prepared to lead Officer Richards away to her bedroom.

In the cab his lips were aggressively crushing hers as his hands snatched at her breasts eagerly. Marla rolled her eyes as it happened trying to move his hands lower to a more sensitive location. He insisted on toying with her breasts and chaffing her nipples under the dark lacey bra. Once they were inside her apartment Marla pushed him away. She took in a few breaths. He almost seemed predatory toward her.

"I think someone needs to slow down." She whispered running her finger over her lower lip.

"You wanted entertainment Lieutenant." He sneered softly. Marla took steady steps toward the officer looking up into his eyes. She did not care that her dress may have been too short or that her boots were too long and seductive. She did not intend to let this man move in any way, but what she wanted.

"Let me make this very clear to you Officer Richards." Her voice was clear and pristine. "You are here for my entertainment. Mine alone. If you wish to have your pleasure you will have to do that on your own time." He looked almost ridged by her words. "You are here because I allow it." She pushed her hand against his chest lightly. She maneuvered him backwards toward the bed. "Lie back and try to enjoy yourself enough to please me. Are we clear?" His head only nodded as Richards laid back.

Marla swallowed her bottom lip into her mouth before she shimmed out of her panties. She watched as the blonde man began to sit up to take off some article of clothing. Marla clattered to the bed pushing him down as she straddled his waist line. She leaned down gently kissing him allowing him to get comfortable before she bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Bitch!" She slapped him when he said the word.

"You don't get to decide what I give you." She began to unbutton his pants. "You shouldn't complain so much."

She wiggled them off allowing herself to assist him in becoming ready for her encounter. It didn't take much effort. She could see Richards was enjoying it far more. Marla positioned herself against Richards rocking her hips slowly downward. The warmth inside her welled up as she threw her head back. His pelvis thrust forward as she rocked against him. She bit her lip once more hoping to get there fast. She held a hand steady to her chest closing her eyes. He made grunts that seemed inhuman and unwarranted. He wasn't anything special. He was simply the first willing participant in the bar.

Marla felt a fire roar in her belly as she squeezed her eyes tighter. He didn't seem to do much, but lie there. She had instructed him to do so, but she often wanted someone to disobey her so she could put them in place. She loved being on top and in control. It was the only time she could be truly in control in her life. She let out something between a gasp and squeal as he pushed himself deeper into her. She was almost there, but he was quickening his pace too much. She crushed her fingernails into the fabric of his shirt. She heard him cry out a guttural animal noise signifying his efforts had been over. She pressed her hips faster against his hoping to achieve her own satisfaction before he went flat. She let out steady gasps.

"John." She found herself too careful with the name in between her breathes as her face erupted into a mask of undeniable pleasure. She was breathless when she finished. Her body was hot and burning from the sex given to her. His face seemed slated with passion. He reached up to touch her face. She swatted his hand away.

"I think it'd be best if you left." She concluded taking herself off his body. She put her panties back on recalling how she had managed to control the man enough to let her keep nearly all her clothing on.

"That's it?" He wondered aloud, not in anger, but in disappointment.

"Yes it is." She confirmed. "If you had lasted longer I'm sure something else would have come out of this encounter, but you were quite disappointing Officer Richards." She folded her arms across the white V-neck dress. He seemed angry with her.

"You rushed me." He insisted. Marla rolled her eyes.

"Please, if you put your mind to it you could have held on longer. I barely had time to realize what was happening." He came up to her and she waited. Men had hit her before when she criticized their performance in the bedroom, but she always hit back. "If you wish to strike me don't expect me not to strike back." He balled his hands up into fists before slowly backing away. He put on his pants as she watched.

"Who's John?" Richards asked. She shook her head and turned away from him. "Someone who won't fuck you I bet. He's got the right idea. You aren't that good in bed anyway." She chuckled at the response.

"That good?" She turned to look at him. "That doesn't bother me. If I am good. All that matters is that I got what I wanted. Despite your malfunction," She motioned toward his crotch now clad in trousers. "I managed to achieve my goal." She swallowed slowly motioning to the door. "Now would you kindly please get out of here."

He left without another word, but looked to her bitterly. Marla wasn't sure what men expected anymore. If they could simply be pleased by a sexual encounter so could she. She unzipped herself taking off her clothing ready to sleep naked and raw. As she crawled under the sheets she closed her eyes realizing what was happening to her. John Harrison had slipped his way into her personal life in a very unflattering way.

Marla had always been so fascinated with augments for years. There was no denial that yes sometimes she fantasied about their sexual practices. Or what it would be like to have one of those men. Perfection was in body and mind. Sex had to be perfect with these men. Marla shivered at the thought though. Speaking his name had been a controlled accident. She could have easily uttered his real name, but she had the strength enough to stumble out the fake one. John. John Harrison. Her mind was wrapped up in him once more.

Richards could only distract her for so long. She was back on her thoughts for the augment who seemed to have been allowing himself to accept that he needed her help. She wondered how to respond to the note. Marla hadn't been shocked that Harrison had thought to hand her a note similar to her strategy. She was immersed in their world long enough to begin to think like them. Paper was hardly looked at in a technological advanced world. She continued to stare at the sliver of paper looking it over again on her end table.

She had immediately noticed her own words on the paper he had torn off to craft his message. The section was describing the tyrant who had taken over much of Asia and the Middle East. It was Marla's early introduction to the man. She knew he probably did it on purpose to show her who he was, but if he truly knew her he would know by the nearly thirty pages she had devoted to the tyrant who marveled in Herman Melville that she had long figured out his identity. Saying it aloud or in her mind would only make her want to scream the name for all to hear.

"My favorite tyrant." She whispered placing the paper back on her table. Marla wondered if she should let it be exposed like that, but then again she was still dying. Her cares were becoming far less as the days gone on.

Beside she hadn't exactly made a decision on whether to honor the request. She understood that if she did not go through with attempting to help Harrison rescue his crew she would not get what she wanted. However Marla had to weigh the daunting truth. In her condition helping the augment would be very difficult. She even wondered how he had meant her to help. If she knew him correctly he had been planning an escape all along. He only simply needed one favor from her. What that favor was, the woman didn't know. If she failed at the task she was sure her death would come quite quicker then she would have liked to imagine.

Instead Marla McGivers decided to wait Harrison out a few days. She would be better prepared if she gained more information about him. If his desire to save his crew was valid or simply a point of loyalty. She'd at least have to understand it for herself. Marla could imagine Harrison understanding her hesitation. Besides getting so close as they did the day before would look suspicious. She would have to wait it out until she responded.

Marla wasn't sure why security had been heightened the next day. Or why they were giving her such a hard time. She imagined Starfleet was getting threats that week or Marcus suddenly found his right to be paranoid. It took her an extra thirty minutes to get into the work room. She was frustrated the moment she stepped inside. The only relief was the new weapons laid out on the table.

"You are quite late, Dr. McGivers." She shot a look at Harrison who appeared to be waiting for her. He had bright eyes and a coy smile on. She swallowed trying to regain her composure.

"I had to deal with some very handsy Starfleet intelligence." Marla nudged her thumb at the door. "Security has increased tenfold."

"Perhaps someone is unhappy with your peaceful organization." His eyebrow rose very slightly.

Marla just nodded approaching her work station where Harrison stood very still by. She nearly gasped when she saw what was laid out for her. Her hand went to her chest either way to try to control herself.

"I thought you would enjoy these." Marla could hear the smile in Harrison's voice as he came an arm's length from her.

"My God," Marla breathed. She was looking at rusted metal chunks that barely resembled weapons. She could see the make on the phasers and the five barrels that squeezed together. At least she thought they were five. She reached to touch them, but then hesitated. "Gloves?" She didn't expect Harrison to retrieve them from across the room, but he did. Perhaps he respected her enough.

Her fingers easily grazed Harrison's as she took the black gloves from his hands. Only then did she begin to touch the rusted metal pieces. The weapons were no bigger than her hand. She recalled talking to Harrison about these powerful weapons before. She had only known of one phaser being discovered. This was the one.

"Small, but powerful." She stroked the crusted edges with ease.

"I believe the request is to replicate and perfect it." Harrison concluded. "Such a waste not to restore."

"Who says we can't?" Marla snapped back at the augment. He seemed a bit stunned perhaps at the word we rather than her sudden vigor in the project. She looked back at the palm sized phaser. "Restore and renew."

With that she began to work on the weapon. She carefully removed the cover chipping away at the rust. In that moment she had unintentionally made Harrison her assistant. It was easy to do as he seemed to hover. Harrison was beginning to study her movements, how she fiddled with each part or carefully pressed pieces into one another. She could watch him watch her, but she couldn't do it in silence.

"Did you use these?" The phaser was bubbling in a solution meant to derust the product. She watched the rust peel from the metal carefully in the wide glass. It came off in curled strands. "In your lifetime?"

"Not asking about the war?" Marla slightly shook her head at his surprised words.

"Every moment for your people was war." She nibbled on her bottom lip trying to study the phaser's true coloring. "I think it's about time I stop referring to it with a name."

Harrison walked pass her to study the glass as well. He leaned downward looking at her through the clear liquid and container. His pallid eyes watched the bubbles rise. She unclenched her teeth from her lip sitting up straight. Harrison continued to stare at the product, but she could have sworn he had smiled.

"I did." He stated finally. "Very briefly. They were still rare to us."

"Not your design?" She concluded.

"We like our weapons big." Harrison smiled as he straightened his posture to meet Marla's eyes. She shifted them suddenly trying to focus on what she wanted out of him. She took an inhale which she saw made Harrison look away to smirk. "Shows our strength."

"Small weapons are easy to hide though."

"We had nothing to hide, Lieutenant." Harrison seemed to have his eyes fixated elsewhere. "We were violent so we created it in kind."

"And your crew?" Marla swallowed as she spoke. The mention of Harrison's crew caused his focus to shift to the ashen red haired woman. "Did they all have similar ideals? I understand you say we so strongly, but your crew . . . they all remained loyal."

"The crew," He said strongly with a deep hard look into the woman's eyes. "I have now," He stepped slightly closer to Marla. "Is _mine_. They are loyal to me. To each other."

"All that ambition though." Marla found herself suddenly wondering. "You were all created with perfection. Who was to say who led and who served?"

"We were not the same." He almost sounded bitter by hearing her words. He grew closer to her. She wanted that. Marla wasn't sure if she wanted to study how far she could push him or how loyal he was to his crew or if the closeness was something dangerously appealing. "All of us were created individually. We grew together, yes, but our goals separated and came together."

"And your crew had your goals in their heart?" Marla watched the bubbled begin to disappear. The weapon was a dark cooper. A cheap metal to use in those times. Especially if hundreds of small ones were being handed out to soldiers like candy.

"My goals became ours in time." Harrison's breath was steadying as if to compose himself. Marla let her gloved fingers squeak around the glass. "In times of war we unified." He stepped closer to her. His front was to her back, but she couldn't feel his body press her. Only his breath ruffling through her thinning shoulder length hair. "We were always unified."

"Did you," She tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, but that didn't help. She was imagining John bending her over the table and then . . . she quickly opened her eyes. "Meet them when you were young or when you started to deify your creators?"

"All at different times. All proving loyal to the cause." He was making himself distant once more. She could hear him snapping on gloves. He stared at her as he removed the blistering phaser from the solution. He examined it quickly lifting his brow, tilting his head, and puffing out his lips for good measure.

"Your first officer," Marla could see that suddenly Harrison had his eyes to her sternly. It was the wrong thing to say. "How did you meet him?"

"You are inferring that I am a captain, Dr. McGivers." Harrison said with a light airy tone in his voice. It made Marla slightly frightened to hear the change.

"I am concluding that you were and are the captain of the SS Botany Bay." She told the man with the phaser. "Much in the same way you inferred I was a doctor."

"My proof was a bit more solid, Lieutenant." Marla knew why. He had read her book, by Dr. Marla McGivers.

"You don't deny you led." She let her eyes stay on him firmly. She took an unmistakable set forward. "So answer the question, Captain. How did you meet your first officer?" She watched his face looking for any emotion to appear.

He almost looked pleased that she was taking the steps toward confrontation and assertion. Harrison rubbed his fingers over the weapon before he handed it to Marla, handle to her. She took it, but didn't break her graze. He already had. He began to cross the room suddenly as if he needed to escape his prison to remember.

"In prison." He muttered suddenly. "He was an Israeli prisoner of war since the first months of our rebellion. He murdered several units after his commanding officer was brutally killed. He dragged his body with him hoping to give him a proper burial and the deserved respect."

Marla McGivers hadn't expected the information to flow from Harrison's mouth so smoothly. Usually he would give her short quick answers or ones she had to answer herself. This was Harrison being personal. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign. Suddenly Marla found the weapon less appealing. Harrison was giving social details to augment warfare. Some she hadn't heard of before.

"You carry your dead?"

"Leaders are led into war. Even when they die their corpses are still meant to be protected." She watched Harrison's posture become relaxed. His hands were no longer crushed behind his back, but at his side comfortably. She could see now that his hair was getting longer. She wished she hadn't had noticed the stray hair hanging loose in the front. It made him look too appealing.

"And you rescued him from prison." Marla concluded trying to prompt a reason from Harrison's lips.

"His loyalty was unmatched." He stated letting his eyes wander. "I was planning a coup against Asia's current tyrant. I needed someone worthy at my side." Marla wondered how she would have fared back then. If as an English woman trapped in the muck of war she would have been brutally taken by the savages or killed on the spot. She had always imagined cracking a deal with them. Marla suddenly realized she was in the process of perhaps doing that now.

"He's important to you." She knew it. The baritone in his voice had been lighter when speaking about his crew. There was no doubt his loyalties were shining through.

"All of my crew is important." He said each word to make sure Marla got the message. Her response was needed as was her help. "Joaquin happens to have proved his worth more so than the others." She tried to sort through her Eugeneic Wars catalogue in her mind's eye. She couldn't recall the name of the steadfast augment being brought up. "They are my family."

"You had none growing up." She couldn't help herself. "What was that like?"

"Lonely." He admitted. She saw he didn't seem to want to look at her anymore. She rotated the weapon in her hands. "They created us from the best genetics. We were all lab rats in their mazes struggling to knaw our ways out."

"Did any manage to escape until the end?" He had lived in Kali. She kept having to remind herself that. He had been tortured with burns, bruises, scars, and cuts. They had tested his limits until he wanted death. They were similar in that way.

"Not from where I was raised." He finally let those eyes fall onto hers. "Not for long."

"I'm sorry." Marla immediately regretted saying it wrinkling her closed eyes. She quickly opened them again to see Harrison staring at her inquisitively.

"Have you ever lost someone you loved, Lieutenant? Someone important. Someone not in death."

Marla hesitated to reveal something to him. Harrison, despite his promises, appearance, and having the knack to fascinate her to no end, was still dangerous. If she said the wrong thing he could snap her, despite his promises. She wondered if they could control themselves well enough. Sometimes she had discovered stories of sudden outbursts. However it had never worried her before, though she had not been digging full steam into his past.

"My father." The words sputtered off her lips. She hadn't meant to reveal herself so quickly. She shivered realizing his plan had worked. He was too forthcoming. His trust had allowed her to feel comfortable. A noble strategy on his part. "His mind, though absolutely brilliant, was flawed." She wondered if she should reveal more. Marla stared at the weapon once more thinking over what her father had told her. Nail those bastards. "He developed or always had a mental disorder. He had frequent panic attacks with intense paranoia. Always thought people were watching him. He taught me and my brother how to use weapons and fight in order to protect ourselves 'from the wrong and unrighteous'."

Marla heard him softly chuckle. Somehow it calmed her. If her childhood amused him perhaps he would not think her enough to take her out. She knew Harrison would only harm her if she refused his bargain. Promise or no promise.

"He was committed to a mental hospital by my mother, who couldn't handle his intensity any longer. He had gotten to a point where he was . . . threatening and acting on his violent thoughts." Marla noted to the augment letting her eyes fall to him. She saw him bit his bottom lip as if to contain his amusement. He looked to the side before letting his eyes rest to her, comfortingly.

"It appear, doctor." His hands were behind him as he strolled forward so meaninglessly and casually. "We have more in common than I would have hoped for." His hands reached for the weapon. His wet gloved fingertips trailed along her palm as he retrieved the artifact. He leaned forward letting his lips close to her ear. "Good daughters listen to their fathers' concerns." Her eyes closed for a moment before opening looking to him in confusing. His chin only tipped in a nod.

It was a warning. She knew it.

Marla also knew what needed to be done.

**Author's Note: **Was it surprising how much Marla and Harrison opened up to each other? I actually didn't expect Harrison to react or say the things that he did. The sexual tension is still building. Perhaps it may or not be fulfilled soon. Let me know your thoughts on their budding relationship that seems a simply a matter of convenience.


	8. Eye of the Beholder

Chapter Eight: Eye of the Beholder

Marla tucked the slip of paper into her bra as she watched the elevator doors begin to close. She had come to her decision the day before on whether she could handle the task John Harrison needed her to do. He had reminded her who she was, her father's daughter. The daughter of a madman trained in madness. She was crazy enough to go through with the daunting task of locating Harrison's crew and saving them. In turn Marcus would be dead.

A great reward.

"Hold the door!" Her voice sounded hoarse. She had awoken in the middle of the night covered in sweat. Once she realized what was happening to her she had set about covering up the red blisters that were beginning to form across her entire body with smoothing medical remedies and heavy makeup. A small white hand reached out to stop the doors from closing. "Thank you." She was nearly out of breath.

"No problem." Marla could hear the smile in the woman's voice, British and utterly pleasant. "Anything to help a fellow officer." She looked to the woman clad in gray like her. A Starfleet Academy uniform. She had a blonde bob, blue eyes, and a sweet smile. "Where are you headed?"

Marla soon realized she shouldn't have been in the elevator with this woman who perhaps knew nothing about the secret weapons hidden below in Section 31.

"Up." She pressed the next button up that the woman had pressed.

"Medical?" The blonde woman asked with a bit of drop in her expression.

"Yes." Marla lied. "Treatment." She had been to that floor before.

"You seem fine to me. Is it not a physical thing?" Marla squirmed a bit feeling like Marcus or Harrison was interrogating her. She really thought the woman was absolutely dense or just being polite. She nearly looked like a walking skeleton.

"Lots of good makeup." Marla stated. "Underneath I look horrid." The woman stepped a bit closer to admire Marla's work. The elevator dinged allowing the doors to slide open to the woman's floor.

"I wish I could do my blush that well."

"Carol!" A voice called from the floor they had arrived at.

"Good luck!" The woman known as Carol shouted waving Marla along as she left her.

The red head gave a tiny wave before seeing the elevators close. She sighed realizing she would definitely need luck. Her card was scanned. Section 31 and Harrison awaited. When Marla tucked herself through the doors into the work room she could see something had returned to the care of the two of them.

"Marcus didn't like his modified torpedo?" The object had been missing for some time now. It seemed well taken care of lying in the middle of the room, hatch opened. Harrison was committing himself to new plans for something or other that didn't concern Marla. He only peered up from under his brow when she spoke.

"I asked to look it over. Before mass production begins." He sounded calm. Marla peered to him watching his fingers move across the padded paper. She had never asked why he used paper. She only assumed it was because of whom he was, a man of the past and of simpler times.

Marla couldn't understand Harrison's words. He perfected things. Giving something a once over appeared utterly useless. She had read stories that the notion of anything less than perfection among the augments was insulting. She admired the weapon seeing how new and gleaming it appeared to be. She wasn't good at noticing the functions of new weaponry. Marla's talents still laid in the old. She was a historian after all.

"You can have a look if you'd like." Marla twisted her head. Harrison's hands were behind his back. He was in front of the work station, his work abandoned. His eyes were watching her with relaxation.

"I'm not very well skilled in advance weaponry." The woman told the augment tilting her head slightly. "My skills are better suited to restoring weapons of your time. I'm rubbish with technology."

Her father had played a factor there. He believed technology seared the brain left the machines to work out your problems. When Marla was young she thought her father had been a genius in his thought process. Part of her still believed him.

"Go and take a look, Marla." He nudged his chin forward in encouragement.

She stood there for a moment in confusion or shock. She wondered if she had heard right. Had he just spoken her name? Had it been in almost a soft caring way? Marla then decided she had been mistaken. She let her eyes fall to the torpedo. She knelt down to it seeing the outside. It didn't have much to it. She'd have to look inside..

Marla felt around on the inside before letting herself poke her head to look inside. The light outside the shell was bright enough to notice the details Harrison had inputted. She saw the inside was detailed, but was unsure for what. She felt around the top before her finger found an inside pocket. Only the tip of her finger could wiggle through the lining of the torpedo. Marla let out a breath when she felt the tiny paper, another note from Harrison. Maybe he was regretting his decision to help her. Perhaps he realized he didn't need her to help him take himself and his crew from this place. She pinched the note between her fingers deciding to replace it with a note of her own.

She traded one note for another squeezing Harrison's request into the cup of her bra attempting to readjust herself before she allowed herself up. She hesitated deciding instead to retrieve Harrison's note while her eyes were still inside the torpedo away from the cameras. She could read the small slanted print clearly. Her fear had suddenly returned when she read the words:

I can save you.

Marla wasn't sure why that noted a fearful reaction in her. Perhaps she had been committed to her death for so long the notion of being saved when she didn't want it was terrifying. She was helping Harrison in order for Marcus to die. She wouldn't have to face jail time if the plan succeeded or if it failed. Marla McGivers would be dead as soon as the sickness decided to take her. Now Harrison was offering another part of the deal. Another cause for her to help him more. She had already placed her note inside before seeing his. Her note was merely an agreement.

Your crew is in my care.

She tucked the note back into her cup accidently uplifting more of her breast as she peeked her head up. Harrison had his eyes on her. His brow rose when he watched her adjusting the plump slightly burned flesh as her fingers had rubbed off some of the ointment. When the burnt skin hit air she didn't wince. Pain was never something she took much mind to. Sometimes she even enjoyed a little pain, only a little.

She noted how his body seemed to become tenser at the appearance of a female body part left exposed. She rolled her eyes before smiling. Marla stood up to Harrison who let his eyes fall to the torpedo. He squatted down closing the lid with a swish.

"It doesn't appear like the core is ruined." The red head let out with a shake of her head. He returned back to a standing position. "I don't know why you needed another look. It looks ready to go."

"It needed some modifications I realized." His eyes trailed across the length of the torpedo, tail to head.

"Well what you've done seems sufficient." Marla concluded peering around the room. There were old weapons to tamper with.

She turned abruptly leaving Harrison to marvel at his work. She went to a table with a rifle that had seen better days. She soon noticed the weapon was not energy based. Her toes curled at the idea of bullet lodged somewhere in the gun. Bullets were so much more exciting than flashes of light. She pulled the thing apart with ease however the process was gentle. It was rusted and worn. She carefully placed each part in its spot. Marla noticed Harrison watching her as he returned to his station. As she worked she decided to make a playful banter with Harrison. After all they were to be working together much closer now, plotting to take, kill, and heal.

"What does Marcus have you working on, Harrison?" She wondered aloud. "Something chaotic for his self-righteous war?"

"Wouldn't it be best if you didn't know, Lieutenant?" His voice seemed to echo in its depth.

"I know too much already." She unlocked an empty shell with disappointment. "Let's put another nail in my sinking coffin." She turned her head to peer at him. Marla could see him smirk, a soft chuckle caught in his throat. His eyes remained on his plans.

"A dreadnought class ship." He told the woman. "Two times the size and three times the speed of a regular Starfleet vessel." Marla watched Harrison's lips move at an incredible speed as he spoke. She thought he meant to say more, but he stopped.

"Advanced weaponry?" Marla knew the answer. Harrison made a gesture on the paper as if making a long line with his pen. She only saw his head nod. "Marcus wants a combat ship then."

"Yes, Lieutenant." Harrison nearly sighed the words. "It is what I am here for."

Marla looked down at her dismantled gun with thoughts lingering in her head. Marcus had meant to keep her around to put her in front of Harrison as a way to witness his actions and intentions. The red head was meant to be a pawn between the two, yet she was still useful. She had restored weapons once dead. Lethal weapons that could help in a coming war with the Klingons. However the weapons were being brought to her less and less. She thought perhaps Marcus was meaning to do away with her soon. Maybe that had been why Harrison was extending another offer to her, to make sure she would accept his offer quickly before her time truly ended.

"What am I here for then?" Her shoulders sagged as she spoke.

She watched his reaction carefully. His eyes slowly rose from his work, forward, thinking for a moment before his head turned, methodically and slowly. His eyes settled on Marla's heavy gaze. She watched as he lifted from his lean to become the soldier once more. His hands were at his side as he walked toward Marla. He was facing her, an arm's length away.

"My assistance." It was a simple answer that didn't need the stride over to her.

"I am here for death." Marla corrected him with confidence. "Both of you want me to die." It wasn't true. Harrison didn't let his expression falter. She knew he wanted her to live. She was merely testing the waters to find out the purpose. Marla let tears settle in her eyes to test his emotional limit. She let the pain turn to something bad instead of motivation. She was allowing herself to feel the burning finally. Perhaps he figured her strategy out. Or perhaps he was playing for the cameras.

"You aren't dead yet, Dr. McGivers." His hand reached out to touch her ash red hair lightly. His fingers were soft and gentle against the strand he took into his touch. Slowly he drew the hair strands toward him careful not to let them fall. He took a step closer allowing his lips to kiss the strands. "In my time many said red hair would not exist in the future, yet here you are."

She barely recognized the statement. He was incredibly close. If she wanted to Marla could have easily placed her hand on his heart once more. She could have felt his beating heart again. The heart of a man from the past that was slowly easing his way into her future, however long that would last.

"A rarity still in this time." It still remained the same about red heads. They were still rare, but not extinct. Not yet. She was proud of that. The hair showed that she was her father's daughter more than any action ever could.

"To see you in your prime," His fingers reached for her face releasing her hair. She knew what was next. The raw edges of the makeup were rubbed off by Harrison's rough touch. It burned, but she let him have it. She liked his fingers against her skin no matter how painful. The red blotches and peeled crusted layers of skin were exposed against her cheek. The reaction would be the same on any other part of her body, unfortunately Harrison was currently only admiring her face. He rubbed the bridge of her nose letting the crisp skin fall to the floor. "Would have been an honor. Marveling in such beauty."

Marla tried not to seem hurt by his touch. The makeup had been a part of a natural soothing process mixing medical solutions and practical lotions, however she wondered if Harrison was testing her in more ways than one now. Like Joaquin would her loyalty constantly be tested by the augment? If so she would have fun keeping up with him.

"This is my prime, John." Marla let her posture show her confidence. "I have never fought harder for my battle scars."


	9. Frankenstein's

Chapter Nine: Frankenstein's 

"Finally," Her breath was almost orgasmic. "Marcus finally has given us something good to play with." Marla McGivers' fingers danced over the blistering metal. The long ranged weapon had a good neck to it almost looking like a pistol used in ancient western films, however this weapon had energy to it. There were no bullets locked inside.

"Dangerous too." Harrison was close enough for Marla to hear him, but far enough for her eyes not to detect him.

"Forty parts." The weapon was a mangled piecing together of failed weapons of the time. Harrison stepped closer when she spoke, almost with urgency.

"Forty two." The correction caused her to rip her gaze from the weapon to Harrison. He looked smug in his remark, but he looked more displeased with her assumption rather than his correction.

"No." She was sure of it. Forty parts. Forty different weapons in one. She began to take the pistol looking phaser apart counting out loud.

The red haired woman began to name the parts of each pulling the weapon apart completely. She indicated models, years, and reasoning for each piece spreading the pieces out equally on the work station. She didn't dare care where Harrison's eyes were. They could have been locked on her heaving chest for all she cared. She was going to prove him wrong.

"There." Satisfaction rang in her tone. There were forty pieces spread on the table. The weapon was in ruins. "Forty parts." She finally gave in. Marla watched his eyes shifting to check the pieces. He leaned pass her grabbing the core that was laid out. He snapped a piece off with ease.

"An extra power core from an early model." He wiggled the thing before placing it down. "Forty one." His fingers twitched to find the small bronze trigger connected to the bottom half of the gun. He snapped it off, again without trying. "Trigger. From a revolver. Better reaction. Forty two, Dr. McGivers."

Marla stiffened when Harrison placed the trigger carefully beside the other parts. She didn't want to conclude that Harrison was right, but in her mind she would acknowledge his identifying skills. His eyes grew a bit kinder in that moment as if to assure her she was worth something. His face however remained cold.

"A valiant effort, Lieutenant." He concluded. "However you are just like the textbooks. Not nearly as imaginative." Her teeth were forced together in frustration at the failed identification. The weapon had been something she hadn't harbored much attention for, however it was still in her alleged area of expertise.

"How can you recall numbers?" She didn't mean to sound bitter. "It was toward the end of . . ." She had almost said reign, but stopped herself. Marla couldn't let anyone onto how much she truly knew about John Harrison. Even if her knowledge was gaining more and more everyday. "Your time on Earth."

Harrison noted the hesitation. Marla swallowed hard hoping he would be smart and not address it. Of course he was smart. He simply ignored her knowledge focusing on her lack of knowledge.

"I was burdened to know of all the workings amongst augments during that time." He gently laid his hands on the tiny pieces letting them cling to his heated palm before allowing them to fall once more with chiming clangs. "Especially something this fascinating." He smiled at the dismantled piece. "With this many parts. A very dangerous creature."

Marla smiled at the word creature recalling stories of monsters and beasts created from many parts. That creature had not been created for destruction yet he lumbered through his homeland as one. He had been meant to be something of divine beauty, to defy logic, and become something more. He was meant to symbolize immortality.

"Frankenstein." It was a mutter on her lips. Not a remark to symbolize the creature, but how his creator had signed his death warrant when he let the thing rise from his table. Augments were created in the same vain. To see if it was possible. To create perfection in life. They had failed and like the story their creations sought to defy their masters' intents.

"His creation." Harrison mused.

"They still get it wrong." Marla let her soft brown eyes look to him. "Frankenstein's creation had no name. He was simply the Creature. A monster made of pieces of humanity by his master."

"Is Shelley's work still considered a master piece?" Harrison let his eyes become a bit more showy in his emotions toward the subject. Marla cocked a smile at his weakness, literature. She didn't think an augment could open himself up some much with a simple reference.

"Yes and no." She concluded. She cleared her throat in that moment as she began to reassemble the phaser. "Most people these days think of it more as a myth rather than literature. It has become the Prometheus of our day." She knew the words disappointed Harrison. She didn't need to look at him. The words disappointed her as well.

"Modern Prometheus indeed." He nearly snorted the words. Marla was amused to hear this side to Harrison. Judgmental toward today's humans."He never had a name. Merely a function his creator saw fit to dub him, that society placed upon him, creature, monster. He was a being of individuality and intelligence. He had a mind and body. He was not an animal."

The sudden passion in his voice was clear. Marla let her fingers hesitate on the second core, the one Harrison had identified, letting the words sink in. She looked at the weapon. It was the same. It never had a name or place in society. Once the use for it was over, it was discarded. Never given a true identity or place in history. It could not struggle to be deemed worthy.

"He tried." Marla snapped the pieces into place reaching for them as she spoke. "He tried to be seen as more, but instinct is too powerful an emotion to overcome. In nature we are violent, in order to protect ourselves from harm."

"Beware," He nearly squeezed the word from his baritone voice. He snatched a piece from the table. The very piece she needed. It forced Marla to turn toward Harrison. His eyes were gleaming with fire. He looked up from under his brow. "For I am fearless –"

"And therefore," She snatched the piece from his grasp. "Powerful." She smiled as he stared at her, his hand still open and extended. "Despite society's poor view on Dr. Victor Frankenstein and his creation, I still worship the classics even when they are no longer seen in high regard. Even considered childish." She heard him snort at her last word.

"Gods are childish." He dubbed. He let his hand fall to his side."Those who create and abandon have no right to be considered in high regard." She wondered if he was thinking of himself when he said those words. All augments had been pieced together of the finest genetics, the finest parts of humanity. Then they were left discarded when they did not react properly, like good little soldiers.

"Parents still abandon their children, Harrison." She continued to piece the thing back together letting clicking noises echo in the room. "It will never change." Marla was certain of the selfish nature residing within every human life. Centuries could go on and some parents would still hold their children as objects rather than individuals.

"But they are pieced together." He let his fingers brush against hers as they reached for the same object. She looked to him with clouded eyes, large and round with almost confusion as to what his meaning was. "We are all pieces of our masters. Constructed to be the best we can be from what we have and what we learn."

Harrison let her take the dull piece in her hands. Her eyes left his as soon as she had it. She thought momentarily of her life. Her mother had pieced the morals in her, but her father had clouded those with his own twisted look at the world. He had infused her with a delight for weapons. Her mother had showed her how good it was to help others. Her father had done the same, but he had made her think violence helped.

"We decide for ourselves." It was almost a whisper in her breath coated by a sharp snap. "What pieces we want to show the world. They are not always the brightest, but they are who we truly are." She stroked the weapon feeling him step closer. His heat was constricting her breathing. She could smell his musk. Marla may have shivered when he touched her wrist with two fingers stroking her softly.

"The monster," He whispered pleasantly. "Or the creature?" His lips leaned into her ear. She wanted to close her eyes, but instead she held her weapon steadfast. Marla didn't want to give in so quickly, even though for months now she had wanted to imagine Harrison taking her harshly against all the fire power. She would not allow her subconscious do that. "Does the monster leave its master, to continue its work?" He stroked his fingers against her painfully visible veins. "Or does the creature stay, to indulge in pleasures?"

She understood now. The whispers were a warning. Harrison always had strange ways of telling her things, but she knew what they meant. He was questioning her again. The augment knew she wanted to continue her experiences working beside him. However she needed to go. She needed out of this work room to find the crew of the SS Botany Bay. Marla let her hand pull away from Harrison's touch thinking softly where she might put it. She decided to look to his eyes weapon in hand aiming at his heart as she slowly pushed him away.

"Can't it do both? Be both? Monster and creature." She cocked a smile out standing firm on her principle.

He smiled letting his eyes examine her stance as if reading her every position. Hands, feet, and torso. His eyes lingered against her most feminine parts. She wondered if he desired her flesh as much as her mind. Harrison's head dipped in a nod very slightly.

"Yes." His breath exhaled hotly. "It was Frankenstein's creation. Created simply for desire." The last word lingered against his tongue as if it was of grand importance. "It went about doing both." Marla was a bit unsure if she had seen him lose his train of thought as he watched her. He couldn't be getting lost in her features? Her body? It would be a great disappointment to the historian if this augment could be undone by feminine wiles.

"Life," She lowered the weapon slightly letting her eyes fall from Harrison. She still needed to work. She couldn't have him to distract her now. Not today at least. "Although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me," She blindly thought of what could happen next for Marcus to truthfully be fed up with her and place her far from Harrison's agile hands. "And I will defend it." Marla heard the low chuckle in his voice as the smallest piece clicked together. She examined it carefully. "We're only pieces, Commander. But we are still whole. Still human." She again quoted the novel surprising herself. "The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature." Her desires to be her escape.

Harrison made his way to her as if her were to swallow her up. He took the weapon from her hand carefully. Her eyes were watching him, but his were examining the phaser, turning it over and over again in his grasp. His eyes weren't fixed on her yet.

"Soon." It barely sounded like a word when he gave the sound a deep hoarse feeling. She reached for the phaser. Marla stifled a gasp as he grabbed her hand pulling her to his body harshly. His brow was low and fixated on her expression of widened surprise. Slowly he touched her hair letting his hand hook her waist gently with his other hand. He leaned forward letting his baritone voice tingle. "Nature cannot surpass law much longer."

Harrison let her go nearly pushing her to the ground, but was gentle enough to remember her weakness. Marla looked to him softly as he nodded. She knew what he meant. What he needed from her. There needed to be a gap between them. However when the time came she would have to become his monster and creature.

She would have to give into the purest of instincts for her release.

In order to find his crew on the outside.

**Author's Note: **Sorry this chapter is so short. The next one will have some very interesting developments for John and Marla ;)

Also _Frankenstein_ doesn't belong to me. Mary Shelley has that one.


	10. Attachment

Chapter Ten: Attachment

Marla was fearless, but not stupid.

A month or so had gone by since she had known or decided that she needed to get out of Harrison's work room. Weeks of working side by side with him and the settled trickling of aged weapons had taken her mind and body into new territory. Her mind begged her not to commit to the act. Marla liked the work room. She liked asking the augment about his past. She enjoyed the company of someone who genuinely seemed to be interested in her hobby of weaponry.

She was still dying.

Marla McGivers still had her body weakening, hair falling out, and rapid radiation burns appearing against her shoulders, face, torso, and legs. She was nearly entirely exposed with burns when she decided enough was enough. She was stubborn, but smart enough to know she couldn't help Harrison with the reddened pain of skin fully shown or the fact that her body wasn't strong enough to hold on anymore.

So she allowed herself treatment. She allowed herself a doctor's visit on the floor the Kelvin Memorial Archives called medical. The doctor couldn't understand many of Marla's actions, throwing out her pills, committing herself to dead. She hadn't been given long in the first place, but she still managed to stand on her own two feet. The doctor gave her a blood transfusion to help. He gave her more medication, pain killers and pills that would make her physical symptoms, burns, weight loss, and hair loss, less pronounced.

By the end of week two of the medication the burns fizzled out and the pain became a mere tingle, a pulsating electric shock. She wasn't of any use in the work room anymore. Marla frequently had to sit feeling dizzy. The vomiting had stopped by week three of being back on her meds, but the dizziness still lingered. She had merely traded one set of symptoms for another set. Her hair didn't grow back, but she gained some weight. She looked almost healthy in appearance.

Marla hated relying on anything more than her own body. However she had to face the fact, she was dying very rapidly now. She needed to stay alive longer so that she could live, so that Marcus could die. At first Harrison didn't seem too concerned with the condition she made for herself. However when she nearly dropped a very ancient weapon because she had to stand he demanded someone at least put a chair for her to sit on. He had looked into the camera nearly shouting while being her crutch.

"This woman requires some decent support!" His voice was only elevated, no infliction. She felt her feet begin to give out, knees trembling hard. There was no pain, but the floor was slowly zooming at her. She wasn't falling. She only felt like she was.

Harrison dragged her and the weapon to his bed. He told her to lean against the wall, take steady breathes for a few seconds, and then continue her work.

"Try to hold out a bit longer." He had hissed with nothing, but contempt in his eyes.

She had fiddled with the ancient pieces slightly seeing her fingers tremble. She almost missed the blotches of red, the hot sensation, and the peel of the layers as she worked. At least without the medication her mind was intact. Now she felt like a shaky fool clattering against the metal. She often bit back frustration in the form of tears. It was taking her minutes to do something she could have easily done in seconds.

Marla kept reminding herself that Harrison needed her physical strength in the days or months to come. The longer she was on the medication the stronger she would be. She recalled how long the doctor had given her. Some months. She wasn't sure if a number applied to the word some, but she was counting on the estimation of her death.

She now stood naked in front of the mirror in her apartment smoothing out the scars from the worst of the burns. Marla had discovered she could be rid of the scars with a highly chemical formula, however she didn't want any more medication in her blood stream then she had to. She had been rubbing a clear gel on the red lined spots for weeks now. They were slowly making their way to the color pink. She rubbed the gel against her inner thighs wincing as she did it.

Today was her last day.

The day she had prolonged for perhaps far too long. She knew she had to get out of Harrison's work room. She knew that, months ago. Marla could have acted anytime she desired, but she wanted to be stronger in order to help him. She knew this was the strongest she could ever get. Her muscles were nearly nonexistent in the mirror, but there were some in her arms, very faint traces. Her doctor had told her to exercise. She had decided to, in order to improve herself. Not for him. She knew this was for her cause. She needed to live just a bit longer.

"Try to hold on a bit longer."

The tumble of Harrison's deep range made her shutter as she slid her hands up between her legs. She felt something deep and unpleasant in her stomach. She knew it wasn't arousal. It was something her father frequently suffered from. Paranoia. Marla could feel it rise in her throat from her pit. She didn't fear the words or even Harrison himself. She didn't even fear the death that could strike her at any moment. She didn't want to be locked away. Marla didn't want to be trapped somewhere anymore, based on one man's rules. She wasn't going to be alone.

The thought that all her notes, plays, and hard work could be wasted with a single idea from Marcus or any other Starfleet agent terrified her. She didn't want prison. Death would be a better option than being locked away alone in a small room. She swallowed down her pain killers before she left for work.

Today was her last day.

If she did everything as she needed to she would be nearly kicked out of that room by the end of the week. Sooner if everything went perfect. She had enough strength to find his crew. Marcus wasn't smart enough to hide them far away from Harrison. Maybe he even kept them too close because he was cocky. They had to be in the building, but she couldn't go exploring while she was still forced into the room with Harrison.

No, today was her last day.

She smiled as she walked through the doors into the work room. She had to make it count. Marla didn't find herself dressing up too much. She came in the standard dark gray Starfleet uniform, long shirt jacket and pencil skirt. Sometimes she would wear civilian clothes, sometimes Starfleet regulation nobody seemed to care as long as Marla went in the right direction. The second she changed her course five guards were usually on her in an instant.

The young woman was actually surprised to find Harrison at her work station. There was an assortment of various sized weapons on the table. All were from the early 20th century when bullets were the choice of projectile. She let herself smile as she crossed the room to the station. Her eyes were on the table. There were parts of guns and fully together pieces.

"They aren't loaded." He remarked.

"I should hope not." Marla nearly laughed. All the guns that came into her possession were loaded. She detached the magazine of one to see it was empty. She let a sigh. "I suppose he doesn't trust us with loaded weapons anymore." She examined the pistol quietly. "Or perhaps they no longer make the bullets."

"People don't hunt anymore?"

"Not so much." She shook her head. "It's a shame really. I always loved hunting with my Dad. They banned hunting in Europe half a century ago. Lots of animals going extinct."

"Yet you still hunted with your father?" The amusement in John Harrison's voice was not hard to mask. She was glad to amuse him most days.

"My father _loves_ breaking the rules." She mused pressing the magazine back into the pistol.

"You cut your hair." He noticed trying to allow his tone to be mundane and conversational.

Marla looked up to him seeing that he was closer then she realized. His shoulder had nearly bumped into her when his eyes and head turned to examine the pixie cut she had given to herself the night before. She had decided to just make the best of what hair still could cling to her head.

"I decided it was about time. I hate finding long hairs in my bed in the morning." She touched the back to her head lightly. The ash red straight hairs scratched her neck. She wouldn't tell Harrison she actually regretted the look. She looked like a boy. There was silence on his end. She knew he disliked it. Marla wasn't sure how she knew, but she did. She could sense it.

"I don't like it either." She shrugged looking back at her weapon. She couldn't stand the hateful look in his eyes much longer. "I used to have really long hair. It was a bit darker too." She cupped slightly under her breasts. "Down to here." She could feel her breasts sag a bit remembering with a heartfelt smirk that she was not wearing a bra.

Marla was unsure how to begin anything with him in that moment. Her words were even beginning to leave her. She reached for another gun, a tommy gun. She dragged it across the table letting the sound echo. The noise seemed rather annoying however Harrison didn't move from his position. She wasn't sure if she was meaning to get his attention by abusing the weapons. Marla watched his fingers scrap against a graying grenade with a still in tack clip. She let herself focus on the long magazine extending from the gun listening as he shook the grenade to make sure it was dead.

Marla took a breath. She could feel the air flow into her quickly. The dizziness was overcoming her once more. She lowered the gun by its neck to the table placing her thumb and forefinger to her temple. A chair racked across the floor.

"Sit." The single demand was low in his throat. Marla knew he had dragged the chair behind her. She merely brought the tommy gun to her lap as she sat. Harrison handed her gloves. She had been too distracted to recall the weapon needed special care. "Please don't embarrass me, Lieutenant."

Her head snapped up as her brow creased. Harrison merely held out his hand to her, gloves grasped in them. She shifted in her seat seeing his face didn't bother to glance in her direction. He stared forward coldly. He almost bit at his lip. Marla vaguely wondered why, but the next words were her clue.

"I do not wish to prolong this any longer." The throaty voice whispered.

He was giving her permission to do as she saw fit. Perhaps he would even miss her presence in the work room when she was gone. His patience was wearing thin. She stared down at the gun for a moment before taking the gloves. She noted to herself that she needed to take her time. Marla needed to settle herself a bit more.

Harrison sighed almost angrily when she ignored his request. She snapped the gloves on toying with the gun for a minute or two. Harrison preoccupied himself with something else. When she was through analyzing the use the weapon still had, she placed it on the table letting her chair slide behind her as she stood. She let her hand slide over the warmth of Harrison's fingers that fiddled against the grain of a gun barrel. He slowly moved his hand against her palm before sliding his fingers under the plastic of her glove. The blue squeaky cover was snapped in an instant from her hand as the commander's fingers worked.

Her eyes glanced slowly up at him, the face of a superior man. He was dominating. She felt so small in that instant. His teeth were clenched together; his eyes were anxious and devastatingly wide. She allowed a smirk to cross her lips as he roughly grabbed her other hand. His eyes looked down at the bright blue glove on her hand. He ripped at the plastic tearing it off before throwing it to the floor. His fingers squeezed her palm. It hurt a bit, but Marla bit back the pain. She had felt much worse.

"Do you have it in you, Doctor?" He allowed their elbows to meet holding her hand up breaking the space between them. She could smell his breath. It smelled of holy things, meats and breads. His eyes were upon her intensely. "To take what you want?"

Her eyes grew morbid in a moment before they sprang with tension and desire. With her free hand she grabbed his neck pulling herself to Harrison. Her mouth enveloped his. His body and mouth were the same in heat. She let her lips work against his lips for a mere second before she could feel him let his hand move from her hand to her hip. He pulled her close, fast enough for her bones to feel the force of the crash. His tongue was hot and angry in her mouth taking possession of her in every every way he saw fit.

Her hands crushed the fabric of his shirt before she felt his hand grip firmly against her ass. She moaned against him trying to take a breath. He wouldn't even let her have that. With one hand he lifted her up pressing her hard enough to his body that her legs wrapped around him. She never let go of his mouth. He wouldn't let her. Even as she shifted upward his teeth halted her bottom lip with a pull. She could taste iron, but didn't care.

Her ass fell hard against the table. Something clattered. She pushed his chest as hard as she could muster, but it didn't phase the augment. His hands were rubbing against her thighs, raw and smooth underneath her skirt. It took everything she could to breath out the word.

"Weapons." It was nearly breathless.

He paused slightly letting his mouth off of her. His hands were still under her skirt, her legs were still hooked around his waist. Even as they stared at one another trying to regain a sense of what needed to be done next she still felt his fingertips smooth out her scars. Even if the burns were gone it still tingled there. She felt her eyes roll back at the mixture of phantom pain and pleasure.

"They're so," Her breath hitched when he touched her somewhere too close for comfort. "Beautiful." She nipped on her lower lip in the spot where John had bitten her. "The bed?"

"No." It was a firm answer as his hands continued to massage her inner thighs. "Here" She pulled him in by the neck mashing her lips to his. Her hands were moving against the gel in his hair making her entire body fall to jelly.

His lips popped off hers for a moment. Marla was unable to open her eyes as he removed himself from her. She spread her legs only to let him go. He began to shift the weapons elsewhere emptying the work station. At least that's what she imagined. She stopped herself in that long minute from imagining what else the augment would do to her once he returned.

She bit her lip lying backwards on the now empty work station. She looked to the ceiling then at the corners at the black cameras. She almost laughed noting to herself that the cameras would see much more from this position then from the bed. Harrison soon came back into sight leaning over her hungrily.

"Hope Marcus enjoys the show." Her voice was breathless and hazy.

His chuckle was deep as he spread his hands to her collar. The Velcro of the jacket snapped apart easily showing Harrison a thin layer of white skin and her breasts. The cold air against her exposed chest made her quiver and her nipples harden. Harrison had his warm mouth and tongue working to fix the sensation in an instant.

"Over prepared are we?" He quipped as his teeth kneaded against her flesh. She choked back a sound as his mouth worked on her upper half while his hands began the removal of her panties and skirt.

"Need," She sat up as soon as she found herself naked. Her legs pushed him closer to the table wrapping around him once more. Her fingers worked to unbutton his pants. "You. Free." The words were true in many ways. Harrison took her mouth as she removed his pants. They were much more troubling to remove then her clothing had seemed to be.

"Torpedoes." He said against her mouth. Marla had successfully allowed his pants to drop. Her lips felt his mouth as her hands found his arousal fully exposed. His boxers were absent.

"You seem to have anticipated me as well, Commander." She let her tongue and teeth possess him.

"McGivers," He angrily removed himself from her lips gritting his teeth looking at her briefly before letting his mouth nip, lick, and kiss her neck. "Torpedoes. My crew."

Marla regained herself realizing what was happening. Business and pleasure were intermingling very harshly now. Her tongue made a sound of ticking annoyance as she felt Harrison's thumb nail brush her pebbled nipple.

"Seventy," Her breath hitched unexpectedly as his one hand worked her breast while the other found her clit. "Two." She was concerned on how she was to concentrate.

Marla was fairly sure her breathing had become rapid. Normally she was in control during sexual encounters, but this wasn't a normal encounter. This was a forced planned exercise she deeply desired and was deeply loathing. The loathsomeness of it was becoming a thing of the past.

"My crew." He repeated with complete rasp. "Inside."

"The torpedoes." His tongue was licking her throat. Her fingers ripped out his gel. "Place," Her breath was hot. "Your crew." His teeth caught her lower lip and bit. "Inside." He kissed her in agreement.

She felt him tug her forward. Marla gasped against his lips. Harrison remained standing as he forcefully entered her grabbing her lower back as he did. She barely had time to feel the entrance before she knew her legs were clutching Harrison as he animalisticly pounded into her without shame or mercy. Her fingers scratched his back as waves of force and hurt came at her. Marla found tears running down her face as his pace grew rapid and harsh.

"I need," His voice was slowly becoming a single breath. The deepness of his tone was climbing higher the more he allowed himself to relax into his rutted thrusts. "You," She wished that's all she heard, but he continued. "To obey." She struggled to hear him as the pain weaved into something lovely.

"Yes," It was hardly a word. She grabbed him tighter. "Keep me." Marla wasn't sure what her words were meaning to say, but they were positive. Her body convulsed feeling so close to the end. "John." She was so careful to say it right. She had focused all her energy on saying the name. "John." Her legs clutched him tighter as he smashed her body raw. Her chest heaved forward as her eyes squinted. Nails raked the fabric in his shirt causing small holes. Pleasure spread across her body and into her toes.

Harrison made a deep powerful guttural noise in a single instant releasing himself inside her. She heaved again upon hearing his noise losing herself once more. Twice in a matter of seconds she had lost herself to this man. Marla wasn't sure if she could take much more. When Harrison was finished he slowly pushed himself out of her. She licked her lips looking at his sweaty appearance. A chunk of hair fell flatly against his forehead. She reached to touch the hair softly. She exhaled a bit too loudly.

He quickly pulled up his pants putting them back on. He looked a bit raw and sweaty, but he had recovered his composure fairly quickly. Marla watched as he picked up his unworn pair of gloves from the floor snapping them on before reaching for the tommy gun that was on another work station. She sat naked on the table watching him work beside her as if nothing had happened. She waited for a minute before getting dressed seeing that his breath was a bit unsteady. At least she had made some impression.

As she put herself back together she vaguely wondered when the last time this man had truly pleasured himself in carnal desires. Perhaps it had been very long. Perhaps he hadn't pleasured himself at all since his release from the Botany Bay. Maybe that's why he was so predator like during their encounter. She got her jacket, skirt, and panties on realizing along the way that her boots had been on the whole time. She wondered if her heels had dug into Harrison's back.

If so he probably didn't feel it. She popped down off the table nearly falling over as she did. She caught herself on Harrison's arm, though he had not reached out to help her. She knew why. He was attempting to distance himself from her. She would be gone tomorrow if they had their way.

"Perhaps you should sit down." He told her looking at her almost sideways. "You're quite sore." He almost seemed proud in his tone. Marla smiled reaching for the chair. He helped her into it before returning to work.

Marla allowed herself to continue her work on the ancient weapons trying not to allow tears as she recalled once more what today was.

Today was her last day of freedom.


End file.
